


Driven by You

by Four_Misfits



Series: Brianna May Taylor [1]
Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)
Genre: 1970s, Abuse, Abusive Relationships, Angst, Attempted Sexual Assault, Be patient, Cheating, Divorce, F/M, Falling In Love, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Holding Hands, I'm so bad at this, Marriage, Maylor - Freeform, Miscarriage, Music, Mutual Pining, Nudity, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Physical Abuse, Sex, Swearing, True Love, Unplanned Pregnancy, Unrequited Love, Violence, baby Maylor, did anyone say sex?, female!Brian May, friends - Freeform, it's my first Queen fic, pinning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-04
Updated: 2019-06-09
Packaged: 2019-10-03 23:05:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 25
Words: 70,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17293109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Four_Misfits/pseuds/Four_Misfits
Summary: “Ah, I see you’ve met Bri.”And before Roger could say anything, Tim planted a kiss on Bri’s lips before making his way into the auditorium. Before following Tim, she turned and gave Roger a little smile. “I’m Brianna May. Nice to meet you, Roger Taylor.”Roger’s heart stopped for a moment.orFemale Brian May rocking the world.





	1. Bri

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This is my first Queen fic ever, English isn't my first language, and I'm not so sure where I want to take this. So, that being said, be patient with me. I'm still not sure whether I'm going to post little one shots or follow the official story - or the movie. 
> 
> Ever since I've watched the film, I wondered how these characters (and their story) would differ if they were actually women. Or at least if one of them (Brian) were.
> 
> So here's my little attempt at it.

 

Uncertainty. That’s what Roger felt the moment the lecture finally came to an end. He had been trying, _really_ trying to follow the class, focus on what was being written on the board, the questions his classmates asked, the answers the lecturer gave, but nothing really seemed to penetrate his brain. At some point he gave up, stopped writing all together, left his pen, and rested the weight of his face with both palms, defeated.

 

It wasn’t that difficult really. Most terms he passed the subjects he took with passing marks. He knew he wasn’t brilliant, but Roger prided himself for being an average student. Yes, he smiled to himself when he remembered he had once gotten one of the highest marks in an exam despite having studied only the day before.

 

But this feeling of uncertainty hung on him, as if it were a chain that kept him bounded to Imperial. Every term he saw himself doing whatever but dentistry. He just couldn’t picture himself fixing teeth.

 

Roger could see himself doing one thing only: music.

 

He bit his lower lip the moment he remembered his precious drum kit back home. He knew it was safe and properly being taken care of by his mother, the only one who truly believed he could one day become a great drummer. The day he left for London, he made her promise she was going to dust it and keep it clean for him.

 

The memories of his drums soon vanished the moment he stopped by the notice board. He’d made a habit of stopping by it every day to see if there was someone looking for a flatmate, or maybe some little job since his finances were going downhill. Roger wasn’t sure for how long he could still afford living and studying in London without having no one to split the bills with.

 

Roger’s baby blue eyes found no advert that could possibly ease his monetary situation, but one that really caught his eye. He needn’t read the whole thing when just a line was enough to make him smile and forget his money problems, or his thoughts about a future in dentistry:

 

**_“Band is looking for a Ginger Baker / Mitch Mitchell type drummer”_ **

 

Auditions were going to be held on Sunday at Imperial.

 

He couldn’t help but smile to himself as he made his way to his next lecture.

 

…

 

On his way to their first practice, Roger went back to the events which had taken place last week, when he was welcomed as the new drummer of Smile.

 

He didn’t realise he had nothing to audition with until a young man welcomed him with a smile to the auditorium at Imperial. They shook hands as the man introduced himself as Tim Staffell.

 

Tim peered behind Roger and soon understood. “Bri here has a spare snare drum. Maybe you can play a bit and show us what you’ve got?”

 

Roger simply nodded and soon his eyes feel on the person sitting on the third row, just in the middle, looking down at what seemed to be a book. Tim waved his hand dismissively at the person. “So, this is it. Take your time. We’ll listen to you when you’re ready.”

 

The drummer made his way to where the snare drum was. It was black and worn – Roger deduced Bri, as Tim had called the person reading the book – used to or still played drums. Judging by its state, ‘used’ was more likely.

 

“Ready, Rog?”

 

He didn’t say yes, or gave any other indication. He just started playing, his blue eyes always focused on the single drum he had, and the sticks he was holding.

 

Roger played for minutes – how many, he couldn’t tell. But as soon as he had finished, Tim was clapping and nudging to the person sitting next to him. “He’s great, don’t you think?”

 

The blond only heard a “hmm” coming from Bri.

 

Apparently Bri, or whatever the name was, had never left the book, nor had ever spared Roger a glance.

 

Roger was _a little_ intrigued.

 

“Thanks mate. We’ll discuss some things and, err, call you back. Bri, got a pen?” Roger watched Bri giving Tim a pen, never leaving the book. “Right. What’s your phone number?”

 

Roger faked a smile. “Haven’t got a phone. But I’m always around.”

 

“I’ve just dropped out, so I guess you’ll see Bri around looking for you.”

 

“Okay.”

 

Tim turned and saw Bri was still reading. He turned back to Roger and lowered his voice. “You’re the best we’ve seen. You’re sure in.”

 

“Thanks,” Roger gave Tim a smile and watched Bri still focused on the book. “So, what’s the name of the band?”

 

“Smile.”

 

Ah, he had heard of them. Almost every dentistry student Roger knew at Imperial have watched them play at the pub a few streets from campus. Some close friends had even said they were good.

 

Rumour had it the singer was decent. And rumour also had it the guitarist was _brilliant_.

 

“So, what do you play?” Roger asked curiously. He could bet the bookreader was the boring singer and bassist his friends had talked about.

 

Roger could have sworn he saw Tim taking enough air to make his chest grow bigger with pride. “I’m the lead singer and bassist. Bri here plays the guitar.”

 

Now Roger was _truly_ intrigued.

 

...

 

Bri didn’t look for him at Imperial, but Tim did. He said Bri was delighted with him and that they really wanted him in the band. Soon Tim filled in Roger with some of the songs Smiled played, their musical tastes and even their dream of recording an album. All of this Roger listened to with a beer in his hand. Tim even said they could wait for him to get his drum kit from home to start rehearsing and even looking for venues to play.

 

So two weeks later, Roger was on his way to Imperial, his drums safely placed at the back of his van. It was Sunday again, and the campus was deserted. Obviously. Who would be there on a Sunday morning, at 9 a.m.?

 

It was outside the auditorium where he saw someone that definitely caught his eye. There was a woman sitting on a bench, her long legs, in a very nicely tight pair of dark jeans,  crossed. She was wearing a shirt which was probably two or three sizes too large for her, and the first three buttons undone. It was enough for Roger to look at and admire her black lacy bra and the valley between her breasts.

 

“Morning, love.” He said with a grin.

 

The woman did not return the grin, but extended her hand to shake with his. “Ah, the drummer, I presume.”

 

It wasn’t a question. Roger took the hand but did not shake it. He kissed it and winked. “Depends on who asks. But for you, I am.” To his own surprise, the woman did not react to his charms. He was now leaning against the wall when he said huskily “I think I haven’t caught your name, love.”

 

“Ah, I see you’ve met Bri.”

 

Roger turned his head to see Tim approaching them, carrying a case with probably his bass inside and a plastic cup from the coffee shop near the campus. “Bri, your tea.”

 

“Thank you,” said Bri as she took the cup and stood up to greet Tim. “Yes, we’ve just met.”

 

And before Roger could say anything, Tim planted a kiss on Bri’s lips before making his way into the auditorium. Then, Bri took her case from off the floor. Before following Tim, she turned and gave Roger a little smile. “I’m Brianna May. Nice to meet you, Roger Taylor.”

 

Roger’s heart stopped for a moment.


	2. Not Going Anywhere

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the response! I wasn't really expecting it!  
> Now the second chapter...

_1970_

 

“Tim, please.”

 

Roger froze where he was, just behind his van. They had already finished packing everything when he volunteered to go and get some beers. Had their performance been much better, they would have stayed inside, drinking beers, vodka, whatever. They would have danced, Roger knew Brianna and Tim would be making out somewhere while he would be looking for a bird or two to take to his flat.

 

It was a mere whisper, almost a whine. For a moment the drummer thought his bandmates were making out and things were getting to the next level. Not that he was a perv who liked watching. Actually, he had never witnessed any public displays of affection between Bri and Tim. They would hold hands just before a presentation, maybe Tim would press a soft kiss to her cheeks or temples, but that was it.

 

Thinking about Brianna and Tim getting intimate wasn’t an alien thought inside Roger’s mind. Not that he had ever imagined what Bri could be like in bed. Tim was the one who, after a rehearsal and many drinks in between, told him Brianna was just as brilliant in bed as she was academically speaking.

 

“Drives me mad.” Tim confided him once. “C’mon, don’t tell me you didn’t want to shag her the moment you set eyes on her for the first time.”

 

Roger denied everything.

 

But of course he'd wanted to shag her the moment he set eyes on her for the first time. Every man watching them play wanted to shag Brianna. Naked and with only her guitar on - or at least that was what Roger once heard. In a way, Brianna's place in the band was attractive for many. There were not many bands around which included men and women. They were either girls or men bands. Two men and Brianna made Smile unique - in a way. Men and women followed them. Also, men and women wanted to fuck every single one of them.

 

And Tim was right, Roger had wanted to shag her when he met her and her long neck, her breasts, visible thanks to that enormous shirt she was wearing with three or more buttons loosened and her legs. God, Bri really had quite the set of legs Roger liked. And her arse.

 

At the beginning, he tried really hard not to stare. _Really_ hard.

 

Tim was playing next to her, for God’s sake.

 

With time, thoughts of ever getting into Brianna’s tight jeans vanished. Partly because Roger wanted to play in a bad and forget how many teeth a human being had. And also because it was clear Bri loved Tim more than you could possibly love someone. If Roger knew better, he could have said that she loved him more than her Red Special, that  guitar she had built with her father and took them years to complete.

 

“I wrote this song,” Brianna told him the afternoon they met without Tim, who was working double shifts. She presented the drummer with a sheet of paper and handed it to him. “It should go like this…”

 

Roger listened intently. His eyes first fell on her guitar. He took his drumsticks and started softly drumming on his thighs, following Brianna’s rhythm. He quite liked it. He could imagine some sounds, maybe a cymbal here or there.

 

Soon his eyes were on Brianna’s lips. Her voice was softer when she sang.

 

“And here you’ll back us.” Brianna waited for some seconds. “Come one, Rog. One, two, three…”

 

_Doing all right…_

 

“’s good.”

 

“It’ll be.” she said softly. “Help me finish it.” She smiled at his confused expression. “We’re a band, Rog. We should all contribute a little.”

 

It was late when they finished the song. Roger played again the drums, and Brianna made some editing _again_. The drummer sulked a bit, but he’d to admit he quite liked the result. The song started slow, and then the rock and roll began.

 

That was the last song they played with Tim.

 

And now Roger was listening to Brianna cry.

 

“We’re not going anywhere, Bri.”

 

“Tim, please. Don’t do it.”

 

There was a pause. Roger didn’t know if he should go back inside and return later, pretend he hadn’t heard a thing. Probably it was just an argument. Couples fight, everyone knows that. But they never had arguments. Or at least Roger had never seen or heard them having one.

 

After so much thinking in seconds, which Roger felt like hours, he decided to tip toe back into the bar when he heard his name.

 

“Tell Rog, will you.”

 

Tim was walking away, and with him, his bass safely secured inside his case.

 

The case Roger knew Brianna had given him for their anniversary.

 

“You can come out now.” Roger’s eyes widened. Did she know he was there all along? “Bring those beers, Rog.”

 

“I didn’t mean to eavesdrop.”

 

Brianna said nothing. He offered her a beer and sat next to her on the back of his van. The silence at the beginning felt comfortable. But as the minutes passed by, Roger knew he was expected to do or at least say something. Not by Brianna. He expected himself to do something that would make his friend feel better, because now, without even looking at her, he knew she was silently crying and feeling terribly heart broken.

 

Roger was the first to admit he knew how to get women into his bed but was a total fool when it came to understand them. The workings of their minds and hearts were a mystery to him. Had always been, and always would be, he assumed.

 

There were a few things he had learned thanks to his sister, but none of that knowledge had ever come to his mind when he flirted with them, enticed them to his bed, and then forgot all about them the following day.

 

Brianna once asked him, after they had been playing together for six months, if he was really as big a womaniser. With a grin, he said he was not as long as his drumsticks, as some girls liked to say.

 

Brianna laughed her head off, not before playfully hitting his head with her favourite notepad, the one that had shinny stars glued on the cover.

 

Not knowing what to do, he simply did what he was best at. Roger placed a hand on Brianna’s, “I’m sorry.”

 

She gave the hand a little squeeze. “I know for a fact you’re not good with women, Rog –“

 

“That’s not what they say.” He cut her off with a grin.

 

Bri laughed a bit. If asked, she would say Roger knew how to make her laugh. “You don’t need to do or say anything.”

 

“This is what friends are for, love,” he said as he handed her the beer which had been intended for Tim. “another drink? You can crash at my place tonight.”

 

She rolled her eyes. “I’m not sleeping with you, Rog.”

 

“Hey, that’s what you think of me?” He faked a hurt expression. “I was just gonna say we can crash at my place and play Scrabble.”

 

“Yeah,” Brianna sighed. “Scrabble. That’s how you call it now?”

 

“That’s how _they_ call it now.”

 

In an attempt to brighten Brianna's mood, Roger pointed at the sky and asked Brianna things about Astronomy. He successfully made her laugh when he asked if stars were all pointy like the ones glued to her notepad. Brianna laughed and started telling him how stars form. The way she did it, how she made small movements with her hands, it was as if she was telling a child a tale before bedtime. Roger listened to her intently. In just a few minutes, she explained the theory of star formation, something he was sure that had taken years for her to learn, but now knew like the back of her hand.

 

He admired her for being so brilliant, for making the hardest things seem so easy for him. Roger knew he still owed her for helping him study for that chemistry exam. It was very late, Tim had already gone to bed, and there was Brianna, reasoning with him how chemicals behaved in certain conditions and how those conditions could be expressed in formulas. They stayed up the whole night studying. She even made them breakfast and she let him sleep on her sofa that morning. He felt terrible the moment he learned Brianna was working the whole morning tutoring some students in the master's program at Imperial. She simple patted his blonde head, wished him good luck and left.

 

“He said the show sucked.” Bri said some minutes later.

 

Roger lit a cigarette. “It was a load of bollocks, yes. But he was the one falling behind. The bass was loose.”

 

Brianna said nothing for a moment. Her eyes fell on the couples leaving the bar, holding hands, kissing. “He was right.” Brianna said softly. Her voice cracked, and it immediately made Roger turn to face her. Even in the dark of the night, and with the little help of the street lights and the buildings around, he could still see Brianna’s sharp cheeks, her eyes holding back some tears, and her curls falling over her forehead. “We’re not going anywhere.”

 

“College pubs are not that –“

 

“He meant _us_.” Brianna whispered.

 

Bri looked opposite him. A long hand wiped the tears threatening to fall. Roger said nothing and she really appreciated that. Silence was what she needed.

 

Her boyfriend of years had left her. And there she was, sitting at the back of Roger’s van, his hand on hers, her Red Special packed behind her. Many things came to her mind. All of them felt heavy against her back, like her bag with books she carried every time she left the library with all the books she needed to work on her doctorate.

 

“Hi. Enjoyed the show.”

 

Roger was the first to speak. “Thanks, mate.”

 

“Is it a bad moment?”

 

Brianna gave the stranger a little smile. “Not at all. Glad you liked it.”

 

There was something to him. Brianna felt drawn to him the moment this man with those teeth suggested they took a look at his songs.

 

It was Roger again the one who spoke. “You’re five minutes late. Our lead singer just quit.”

 

Ten minutes later the three of them were drinking beer. Roger watched Brianna smiling to this man.

 

Maybe they could get somewhere.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I never liked Tim. But I guess I don't hate him as much as I hate Paul haha.  
> There will be more about Bri and Tim's relationship in the future...  
> Thanks for reading! Kudos and comments are most welcomed!


	3. Taking over

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Freddie comes into the picture as Roger smoothly takes over Tim's place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm back! I've finally decided to stick to the movie's time line for now, though I could change that in the future. Will do what's best for the story I want to tell. 
> 
> Some smut at the beginning of the chapter. Nothing too graphic. Just a silly dream...

_Late 1970_

 

“Interplanetary dust?” Roger asked as he opened the door of his van for her and helped her with the bag, the words leaving his mouth too soon. “How many books have you stolen today?”

 

“Only four,” Brianna rolled her eyes. “and I didn’t steal them. Just _borrow_ them.”

 

His blue eyes now focused on the road. Both fell into comfortable silence, Brianna’s eyes on the landscape which basically consisted of houses, some kids going back home after school, couples holding hands, people just doing things. After a while, Roger asked again, “Why not choosing a planet?”

 

Brianna ignored the question, which she had heard in the course of the previous weeks by many tutors and professors. Many had tried to convince her to focus on something simpler rather than on something that ‘will take her years’ to complete. It was the PhD program and she was the one doing it, thank you very much.

 

Roger had just picked her up from class and now they were heading to her place, where she knew she would spend the whole weekend reading. She simply decided to ignore her bandmate’s question. “How was the market today?”

 

“Boring.”

 

“Fred?”

 

“With Mary.”

 

“Is he coming over tonight?”

 

Roger let out a short sigh. “Don’t think so.”

 

She hummed.

 

Silence again.

 

Roger’s eyes slowly drifted from the road to her long hands resting on her lap. He quickly focused back on the road, and as he stopped to let an old lady cross the street, his mind went back to the dream he had the previous night.

 

_“You’re so hard.” He watched her bitting her lower lip and he couldn’t help but find it incredibly sexy. “So hard, Rog.”_

 

_“And what d’you think we should do about that?”_

 

_Roger watched Brianna’s delicate hand close around his throbbing member before pulling him into a heated kiss. Even in the dream, Roger could feel Brianna’s lips. They were soft. As her hands. And as her breasts he was cupping now with both hands. She broke the kiss only to let out a moan._

 

 _She climbed onto his lap next and rode him as if there was no tomorrow. Roger held her hips tightly. He could feel his thumbs sinking deeper and deeper into her bony hipbones. He knew for a fact he was leaving some marks._ _The drummer watched her as if she was the most precious thing he had. He was about to come when –_

 

“Rog?” Roger felt Brianna patting his arm. “Hey.“

 

“What?”

 

“You okay?”

 

“Yeah, why?”

 

She rolled her eyes and he frowned confused. “We’ve been here for…” she checked her watch. “Three… four minutes? You okay?”

 

Ah. _The Dream._

 

“Just thinking.”

 

“About what?”

 

 _You riding me_. No, that was not a good thing to say. Not even to think about. He mentally slapped himself and hoped his erection was not visible. Anyway, he knew Brianna would hardly glance down _there_.

 

Say whatever. “Sex.”

 

 _Fuck you, Roger Meddows Taylor,_ he cursed himself.

 

“Nothing new.” She snorted. “C’mon, Rog. Had a bad day today?”

 

“Hardly.”

 

“Bad dream last night?”

 

 _No, it was fucking brilliant. You gave me a hand job, then rode me and your breasts –_  “Any plans for tonight?”

 

He pulled over and climbed out the van. He took her heavy bag with him and waited for her at her building. Suddenly, Roger remember how tall she was the moment she stepped next to him to retrieve the keys from her bag. “Reading. And you?”

 

“The usual.”

 

Brianna gave him a side smile. “Thanks for the lift. See you Monday?”

 

The drummer placed his hand on the small of her back as she made her way in and then waved his hand a little.

 

Roger found himself giving his right hand a soft smack as he drove to the flat he shared with Freddie. Never in his life he had such a vivid dream. 

 

Actually, never in his life he felt as if he had actually had sex with his bandmate, Brianna May, the only woman in his life he knew for a fact would never have sex with.

 

...

 

They did not welcome Freddie into the band so easily. Yes, both agreed the man with prominent front teeth sang beautifully and his singing fit with theirs. If he was to become the lead singer of the band, their voices needed not to be good together but _perfect_.

 

“He doesn’t play bass.” Roger said as soon as he handed Brianna yet another beer and lay down on his couch.

 

She took a long sip. Roger went on about their previous chat in the bar. He was struck by how many nights Freddie had been there, watching them, listening to them, following them. Immediately after listening to Freddie sing for the first time, the three of them went into the bar again. There was a table with three chairs strangely away from people where they could just drink and chat and not worry about people bumping into them on their way to the restrooms.

 

The two men engaged into a little chat while Brianna just listened, smiled a bit at something Freddie said, something about her guitar and how good it looked even from behind the little crowds.

 

At some point, Roger’s eyes slowly drifted towards Brianna, who was silent, deeply lost on the empty bottle of beer in her hands. Freddie must have sensed something because he excused himself all of a sudden and said he was working early the following day. He jotted down his number on a piece of paper and left the two surviving members of Smile alone.

 

“You okay?”

 

Brianna didn’t look at him as she stood up from her chair and ran a hand over her curls. “Can I crash at your place?”

 

He nodded and led her outside the bar. Roger was well aware Brianna had no need to crash at his place since she had hers, a perfectly nice flat. But he was sure Tim had gone there and would be there right now, probably to take his things to leave. So Roger decided not to say anything and take Bri to his modest flat (he couldn’t remember how tidy it was at the moment).

 

Brianna smiled weakly as the drummer opened the door of his van for her to get in. They rode to his flat in silence, until Roger said he wasn’t so sure if having additional incisors could provide someone with more range, as Freddie said.

 

“I’m not sure about this, Rog.” Brianna asked, a beer in her hands, as she watched Roger going through some course books to check his knowledge on incisors.

 

“About Freddie?”

 

She shook her head. “Should we… continue?”

 

The look he gave her made Brianna realise Roger was confused so she made a gesture with her hand and pointed at the cases with their instruments standing near the door.

 

There were some tears rolling down Brianna’s cheek and Roger understood what she meant. He forgot that just a couple of hours ago Tim had walked out the band and broken up with Brianna.

 

It was the second time he was watching her cry and he felt something inside his chest. It hurt him, and it wasn’t just watching someone cry. It was watching Brianna cry and not knowing what to do. Roger knew if she was just another girl, he would do what he was good at: some caresses, a few kisses, and she could be his.

 

But it was Brianna and she was his friend. She was heartbroken and despite his reasoning that sex could make women feel better (He knew he was being stupid. In the years to come, Roger would go back to this episode and find a way of punching himself for thinking this way), he would not, for his own life, try to shag Brianna if it meant her pain would stop.

 

She apologised and tried to leave but soon stumbled and almost fell to the floor. Roger helped her up, took her to his room, handed her a pair of clean pyjamas he had found somewhere and said she needed to rest.

 

The next morning Brianna, between cups of tea with too much milk and sugar, asked Roger if he kept Freddie’s phone number.

 

...

 

While Roger hit the drums, he looked up and met Brianna’s eyes. She gave him a little smile as Freddie moved from side to side singing. She gave him a nod and turned again.

 

It was the first time they were playing together with Freddie. They were at Imperial on a Sunday morning – too early for Roger – and they have only sung “Keep Yourself Alive” and Brianna had just told Roger with a smile and a nod that she liked Freddie.

 

On his time with Tim, Roger soon discovered that both the bassist and Brianna took decisions for the band together. And decisions varied from venues (mainly college pubs and some bars) to who was paying for the beers afterwards and to whether they should accept Roger into the band or not.

 

“Why didn’t you watch me play?” Brianna shot him a confused look. “When I auditioned.” Roger clarified. They were waiting for Tim to arrive to start rehearsing a couple of weeks before he left the band.

 

Her eyes were on her Red Special. She was trying to tune her guitar when the brunette drummer sat across her on his stool, just behind his drum kit. “I _did_ watch you.”

 

Roger smirked. “Did you like what you saw?”

 

Brianna looked up from he guitar and rolled her eyes. “You’re in the band, aren’t you?”

 

“So you _did_. Tim said you were _delighted_ with me.” He gave her a cheeky smile as he emphasised the word 'delighted'.

 

She bit her lower lip and wondered when was Tim coming. Not like she felt uncomfortable being alone with Roger, she liked him and he was fun to be with. It had been just a few months, but she was fond of him. Roger never missed a band meeting, was always up for some drinks and even gave her a lift or two some times.

 

Brianna was simply not used to men being that cheeky and flirty with her. She knew it was Roger’s nature. She had seen him winking at the old lady who owned a coffee shop they frequented some afternoons, who in return gave him two cookies with his already too sugary tea.

 

“I said you were ‘what we were looking for’ and he agreed.” Brianna explained as she stood up and placed her guitar delicately on a chair next to hers. “We took the decision together.”

 

Roger knew, since joining the band, that he was included every time a decision had to be made regarding Smile, but he had always felt as if Tim and Brianna were the ones behind the real work behind every little show they had. They scouted for venues, decided which part of town where theirs to play, or even when and where to rehearse.

 

And months later, when Tim left, Roger found himself almost smoothly taking over his place when it came to band decisions, the first being continuing or not trying to make music, being listened to by someone in the industry, signing a deal, recording an album, and make it big.

 

Before tackling the task at hand of finding a lead singer – even when they had listened to Freddie and had no intentions of taking anyone else but him – Roger saw Brianna consulting him about possible venues to play in the months to come, rehearsing space and even where should they hold band meetings. They formed a deeper bond between Tim’s departure and Freddie’s arrival.

 

Even as they went out to fish for some new places, he found himself being consulted about bills, university courses, and once about her teeth. He took to pick Brianna early in the morning and drive her to the library where she spent long hours looking for bibliography for her dissertation and reading fat books. Three nights a week they would have dinner together at Brianna’s, because her place was far tidier than his. Plus, she knew how to cook and had real food inside her fridge.

 

Now the drummer found himself looking for a smile, a nod, any gesture from Brianna every time they rehearsed with their new lead singer. Freddie knew the lyrics like the back of his hand, and there was no need to provide him with anything every time they rehearsed.

 

...

 

“It was good.”

 

“He _forgot_ the lyrics.” Brianna said without looking at him.

 

They had just dropped Freddie at his place and now Roger was driving to Brianna’s flat. “Well, people liked it.”

 

“Hmm.”

 

Roger drove in comfortable silence. As soon as he pulled over, she turned to him. “Wanna come up?”

 

The drummer placed a hand on her thigh. “Thought you would never ask, love.”

 

“Oh, shut up, you wanker.” She said as she pulled his hand off her leg.

 

Roger laughed and helped Brianna with her Red Special. Some time later, when they were comfortably sitting on her couch, with a mug with hot chocolate each, Brianna suggested they should start looking for a bassist.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. Here I'm a slut for your comments and kudos.  
> It's so hard to write Brianna. I want her to be as much as Brian as possible, but she's a woman,so some things need to be different...


	4. Deacy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Queen's newest member awakens Brianna's motherly side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What? Updating again? Me? Yes. Some chapters are already finished, just need to give them some final touches. New tags are being added as the story evolves and drama comes along (oh, was I supposed to say that?)

_ Late 1970 - early 1971 _

 

“And what if we don’t use the bass now, and you just play it when we record?”

 

Brianna needed at least three more hands apart from her two to count how many times Roger had already suggested she played both her guitar and the bass they were missing. She was growing slightly annoyed by now that Doug left.

 

They had tried for so long to find someone who could be a good musician  _ and _ have personality, but none of them fulfilled the requirements. They had already discussed it and the three of them agreed that if they had a cool guy, the bass was a disaster. If their riffs were good, or at least decent, the guy wouldn’t get on well with them.

 

Well, Brianna winced a bit. It wasn’t really ‘getting on well’ what made their bassist leave the band, but rather unity - a sense of belonging maybe. 

 

“Think they’re joining an already established group, darling,” Freddie mentioned as he made his way next to Roger on her large couch. “It’s hard enough already.”

 

“Did you feel that way?”

 

“Don’t want to make the lady here feel uncomfortable.”

 

The comment made Brianna roll her eyes, but she watched Roger and Freddie’s exchange with interest. “We’ve seen each other in our own underwear, Fred.”

 

Roger nodded and licked his lips absentmindedly. Yes, of course he remembered that night. Finals were creeping on their backs the night of their little show a couple of weeks ago. None of them made it to the venue slightly ready for it when it came to clothes. Luckily Freddie had a bag with clothes he was taking to his and Roger's market stall he said were perfect for them.

 

If only.

 

They were dark with glittering sequins and Brianna said she was not wearing low-cut tops. Freddie presented her with no other option. It was that or her baggy white t-shirt she was wearing under her sweater.

 

After tackling stage wear, they had nothing but a tiny room to get ready and practically no time.

 

“We have ten minutes to change and other ten to set up your instruments, dear. No time to be a prude.” Freddie said as he got rid of his jeans and shirt.

 

Roger followed suit. And there stood Brianna, holding a glittering top, a pair of flared leather trousers she knew were a size or two too small for her. Roger was naked as the day he was born, except for his underwear when he winked at her and put on an equally glittery shirt he was leaving open.

 

“Need a hand, love?”

 

The guitarist blushed when she took off her t-shirt and quickly put on the top Freddie had given her. Then, the trousers which slid quite easily on her long legs, and finally she ran a hand over her curls. Next, Freddie said she should use his make-up. And while the lead singer applied some lipstick and eyeliner, Roger took his time to observe her practically half naked back.

 

God, Brianna was so sexy. It had been a while since he last looked at her the way he usually looked at women. In the last few months everything was about exams, small gigs, fishing for venues, looking for a bassist who would be a good player and a good bloke to be around.

 

As Brianna turned to him, he noticed she was not wearing a bra. Her breasts were larger than he had imagined (he knew he should be slapping himself) and he wished he could thank Freddie for being a godsend and overseeing their stage wear. It was probably something new to him since all Brianna always wore were baggy tops, or the far too large shirts she favoured.

 

“Ready?”

 

“You look good.” Roger whispered as they made their way to the little scenario.

 

She slightly elbowed him on the ribs. “Shut up.”

 

“Hey,” Roger faked a hurt tone. “I’m talking ‘bout your hair.”

 

“Don’t you think it’s too much?”

 

Freddie turned and ran a hand over her curls, making them bigger and bigger. “Now you look stunning. Look at you. I’d definitely fuck you.”

 

Brianna laughed and started tuning her guitar.

 

While placing his toms, Roger wondered why Brianna didn’t tell off Freddie.

 

He knew she would have definitely punched him in the face had he said something like that.

 

While Freddie and Brianna discussed their need for a bassist, Roger kept on sipping his sugary tea, occasionally nodding at something they said. His mind was still on that night in which he was too horny afterwards to stay and share a drink with his bandmates.

 

He wondered if Brianna had done it on purpose. The way she moved her hips when she played her solos, how her breasts bounced inside that top… all men watching them were left literally drooling.

 

Brianna left  _ him _ drooling on his toms.

 

Roger reasoned she didn’t do it on purpose, of course. Her movements were the same as always. The clothes were the only ones to blame. And Freddie’s make-up and his idea she stopped trying to tame her wild curls and let them grow.

 

…

 

“He’s good, dear.”

 

Brianna shook her head. “He’s not good, Freddie.” She tapped her notepad and smiled widely. “He’s  _ perfect _ .”

 

Roger frowned. “A bit quiet, wasn’t he?”

 

“Did you see him playing?” The guitarist asked excitedly. “God, he’s brilliant.”

 

Freddie let out a loud laugh and patted her long leg. “Darling, you look  _ in love _ .”

 

Brianna nodded and something inside Roger stung. “I’m… I think he’s perfect, Fred! I think we should definitely keep him. What do you think, Rog?”

 

“Well, I’ve never seen you this excited.”

 

Freddie stared at him for long seconds. “Well, I’m all in. John Deacon… sounds interesting. And that darling builds his own equipment!”

 

“Could be useful,” Brianna mentioned, looking at her notes. “And he seems trustworthy.”

 

Roger said nothing. He hid behind his sunglasses, totally unnecessary since they were inside the auditorium at Imperial, on a rainy day.

 

“So,” She patted his thigh and left her hand there. “John Deacon’s in?”

 

Freddie was the first to speak. “Of course, darling.”

 

“Rog?”

 

“He’s in.”

 

Brianna smiled widely. She rubbed his thigh a bit and leaned to kiss his cheek.

 

For a moment Roger wished she would have aimed at his lips.

 

…

 

Brianna’s motherly side come to surface as soon as John Deacon joined the band. As it turns out, the lad was the youngest. And, as a film on TV, Roger and Freddie watched how Brianna took the young man under her wing.

 

It all started during their first rehearsal. They were playing their third song, and had some more still to call it a day, when Brianna heard a stomach growling. John quickly admitted it was him, that he had fallen asleep and as he was running late, he didn’t have enough time to have some breakfast.

 

This time there was no look, smile or gesture between him and Brianna. Roger simply watched her placing her guitar in the case and calling it a day. She said they should have something to eat, and that they all were invited for lunch at her place.

 

Freddie immediately agreed and, watching John blush at the episode, patted his back and said Brianna was a cooking goddess.

 

John was awfully quiet during rehearsals. He barely spoke unless spoken to, and made no comments when arguments took place. It’d always be Freddie who suggested they could improvise a bit and play with the audience (who was usually rather small) to keep them up and therefore earn the pub’s owner and Brianna would always try to remind him they had lyrics to stick to, that that was the reason they were ever written in the first place. Roger had his equal share when he suggested her solos were rather long.

 

So it went unnoticed how John would just turn around, inspect his bass, his amp, or just try to quietly recite the formulas he was supposed to know for his upcoming exams. In the years to come, he would admit to the band he never felt truly welcomed and part of of them at the beginning. 

 

“John, what do you think?”

 

He shrugged.

 

Outside it was a whole different story. While driving, Roger and Freddie witnessed long talks about engineering, physics, chemistry and so on. Now as a Biology student, and not wanting to be left out, he made little contributions to their conversations. However, their talks would usually move more toward engineering, and there Roger felt completely left out. 

 

Not purposefully by any of the participants, but because John was graduating soon and was working on his final exams and Brianna was slowly making progress on her doctoral programme. 

 

“I can tutor you, if you want.” Brianna suggested one afternoon they were idly hanging out at her place, now too little for the four members of Queen.

 

Roger watched as Deacy, the newest discovery of a nickname after Freddie said ‘John’ was too boring and John himself provided them with an old nickname from back home, blushed a bit. “Could you… take a look at my assignments? They have nothing to do with Astrophysics but… I need someone to read them for me.” 

 

Brianna smiled at him. “Of course, Deacy. Bring them over whenever you want.”

 

...

 

“Hey, Rog.”

 

Roger felt really stupid the moment he stepped into Brianna’s flat and found Deacy sitting on the floor, a pile of coursebooks next to him, and some papers on the coffee table. From there, the bassist waved his hand and smiled just a bit, his eyes soon returning to his copybook.

 

“Wanna join our study den?” Brianna asked with a grin and sat on the floor across Deacy. “We’re giving John’s final assignment some final touches.”

 

The drummer felt many things, being the first he shouldn’t have come. The second, discovering both were wearing pyjamas, and the third being he sensed there was something going on between Brianna and Deacy. Was it... were they fucking? How come he didn't know? 

 

“Tea, right?” she asked in her tiny kitchen as Roger leaned against the counter, taking in her long legs, exposed to him thanks to the little shorts she was wearing. “We should finish soon. We’ve studying the whole night,” she grinned. “it’s so exciting. Deacy’s final assignment gave me some ideas for my –“

 

Ah, Roger wanted to punch himself. “Are you two shagging?”

 

OK, he was ready to receive a punch or a slap at any minute now. But Brianna’s face softened. She smiled just a bit and patted his arm. “Really, Roger?”

 

“What?”

 

“Deacy’s just panicking,” she practically whispered, not before taking a look at the bassist, who was still too engrossed on his notes. “thinks he’s not gonna make it. I just… he’s brilliant, Rog. It’d be a real pity if he fails just because he thinks he can’t do it.”

 

Roger winked at her. “Just joking.” And then, he became too aware of her height the moment she stepped closer to him to get the cookies from the cabinets above his head. “Didn’t believe little Deacs was banging my fav doll.”

 

He earned a little smack on his arm and a loud laugh.

 

Now Brianna was truly used to Roger’s nature. He was a womaniser through and through and she didn’t mind it as long as his sexual and romantic adventures remained away from the band. She had even met some girls who stayed long enough with Roger to go to some little gigs, share a few drinks and then vanish like thin air.

 

None of them were as sweet and friendly as Mary Austin was. She went to watch them perform all the time. She sometimes lent Brianna things she knew would make her look good while on stage and had even got her some discounts from Biba. They way Mary looked after Freddie was also lovely, and a few times it reminded her of Tim.

 

Tim had joined Humpy Bong the night he left her and Smile. Every now and then Brianna heard about them. They were apparently slowly making it big, but still played at their old venues. He represented an open wound Brianna wasn’t sure for how long it would hurt her. Working on her PhD and now Queen kept her mind fully occupied to think what could have been, or the what if’s…

 

The boys also kept her away from her bouts of sadness. John with his studies gave her some inspiration and sparked her curiosity to expand on her research. Every other weekend they had to spare and idle about, Freddie would bring clothes he had found somewhere for her to try on. Ever since changing her haircut, their lead singer would insist on Brianna changing her wardrobe, her stage wear, and even the way she walked.

 

“You’ve got such an _backside_ ,” Freddie once commented (there she knew Fred was being 'polite'). “Stop covering it with those long shirts!”

 

Brianna never minded his comments. Freddie was… different, in a way now one could pin down, and no one really cared to label. But the times Roger put his hands on her thighs, or called her ‘love’, all he had earned were little smacks. Perhaps it was because the drummer was flirty and would literally fuck any woman on his way.

 

“How does it feel to be the only woman in a band?” Mary had once asked her.

 

Brianna had never stopped herself to ponder on that. She had really no answer to such question, because they never made her feel her gender could affect their activities or the dynamic of the group. True, there were things she did not discuss with them, as there were 'men talk' in which she was not involved. She did not participate in their talks about women (mostly between Roger and Freddie), as they didn’t ask her who she was shagging. Well, not like she was shagging anyone. But being the only woman didn’t change a thing. They had once seen each other in just underwear, shared drinks, long drives tight in a van full of equipment, fallen asleep on each other’s shoulders and laps.

 

The guitarist only replied they were lucky she wasn’t as hormonal as men usually thought women were.

 

…

 

They embraced into a tight hug the moment they finished packing their instruments and all of them were safely packed in the back of Roger’s van. It had been their first presentation with Deacy and it was a success. The college pub in Surrey was packed. Incredibly enough, Freddie’s improvisation helped and from his spot behind the drums, Roger watched the audience follow their lead singer’s movements and bang their heads to Brianna’s solos.

 

The new name attracted people as well. A friend of him told Roger many thought at first they were all girls. He knew ‘Queen’ was as outrageous as Freddie and himself were – because Deacy and Brianna would never be as daring as they were when it came to many things.

 

“Are you okay, dear?” Freddy asked as he watched Brianna crossing her arms tightly against her chest.

 

She nodded with a smile. “Just a bit cold.”

 

“Oh, come on, love. It’s July.”

 

“Well, you’re not the one who’s practically naked, are you?”

 

Roger grinned. “You’re not naked  _ yet _ .”

 

She only rolled her eyes. This night Freddie gave her a low-cut top with very thin straps, from Biba, a present from Mary for her birthday. It was dark blue, lacy in the right places, with some little yellow flowers which covered (thank God) he nipples. She was wearing her favourite flared jeans and her clogs. Her hair was beautifully curly and covering just a bit her bony shoulders.

 

As they started to lit their cigarettes, she made her way into the venue again to get some beers. People bumped into her and men turned to watch her walk by. Brianna paid little attention to the ones who called her ‘love’ and ‘baby’ as she passed by. She asked for four bottles, paid for them, and was about to step outside when she felt a hand grabbing her by her arm a little forcefully.

 

“Long time no see, Bri.”

 

Brianna felt her heart sank.

 

And suddenly, she felt fear again.

 

It was Tim Staffell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Same as always. I'm a slut for your comments, kudos, and Roger Taylor. Blame BoRhap...


	5. The Attack

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brianna is attacked outside a bar and scars open old wounds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ALERT: violence against a woman. Nothing too graphic, but if it may trigger something, or if it's just not your cup of tea, don't red this. 
> 
> I've been reading authors' comments asking readers not to show their fics to the band/actors. Why would someone do that? Anyway, if you're reading this, don't show this to the real people. Thanks.

 

“Should I check on her?” Deacy asked, pointing at the college pub. They had already smoked like three or four cigarettes each and Brianna was still nowhere to be seen.

 

Freddie grinned. “Oh. She’s probably making out with someone.”

 

“No way.” Roger growled. 

 

“Why not? She’s an incredibly good-looking woman,” Freddie argued, smoking yet another cigarette. “And  _ sexy _ . Did you see how men look at her?”

 

Of course Deacy wasn’t saying anything. He kept his eyes on the floor, and then back to the place where they had just played. Roger nodded his head, remembering the good view he had of his bandmate as she played her solos, moved her hips, turned to him once, or probably twice, and smiled.

 

Roger played like a possessed man. Before they got to the stage, he was doing little jumps, moving his arms and hands up and down trying to warm up when he accidentally dropped his drum sticks. Before he could get them, he watched Brianna kneeling in front of him and picking them off the floor. She half knelt to dust off her jeans and while doing so, unknowingly offered Roger a lovely view of her breasts inside that lacy top she was wearing.

 

“I’ll go.” Deacy said, already taking long steps and throwing the last of his cigarette to the floor.

 

He was about to open the back door when he heard a cry and a low voice calling his name.

 

In the shadows, clutching on the floor and with blood running down her nose, Deacy found Brianna crying.

 

“Bri?”

 

“Deacy…” Her voice was small. “help me, please.”

 

The bassist took a few steps and as he did so, he noticed Brianna had a hand on her nose, clearly trying to make the bleeding stop, and another one trying to cover her naked chest. Her jeans were pooled around her ankles. Her hair was messy, and as he lowered himself to take her in, he saw her left eye was black, and there were purple marks all over her legs.

 

“What… who… Bri, what happened? Who did this to you?” He asked too angrily, making her cry even more.

 

Brianna wasn’t answering, just crying and sobbing heavily. Deacy immediately tried to help her up by taking her elbows, but soon discovered she had a cut on her abdomen, some inches below her left breast.

 

Deacy was so furious he knew he could hardly help his friend alone. He took two steps back and shouted Freddie and Roger’s name as loud as he could. In mere seconds, they were behind him, both taking in the scene.

 

“What -”

 

Roger was the first to act. He took off his jacket, knelt down and put it around Brianna’s shoulders. He saw the blood coming from her nose and from under her arm, which was literally bathing her chest and abdomen.

 

“Bri, there’s blood. I need to check the wound.” Roger said softly, but firmly.

 

Roger turned to Freddie and told him to call an ambulance. The lead singer was running inside when the blonde took off his shirt and started tearing it into strips. “Bri, I need you to press this firmly against your nose.” he instructed her.

 

As soon as he tried to pull her right arm to take a look at the wound on her abdomen, she tried to pull away from him.

 

“Bri, you’re bleeding… a lot. I need to check the wound and see if I can do something about it before the ambulance arrives.” Roger whispered softly, holding some fabric ready to be pressed against her blood tainted skin.

 

Still crying, she nodded and did as she was told. Softly, Roger looked at the wound. There was a lot of blood and he suspected it was deep and in need of stitches.

 

He gestured Deacy to help him. Without saying a word, Roger helped her to her feet and Deacy quickly pulled her jeans up again. Once the task of covering Brianna as much as they could was done, both men walked her to the back of the van. There, she sat down and felt Roger’s hand pressing what used to be his shirt to her wound to make the bleeding stop.

 

Her sobs didn’t stop the moment Freddie came back with some dishwashing clothes and ice. “The ambulance’s coming. Oh, my dear.”

 

Freddie had clearly not seen the whole picture. Brianna’s eye was black, her nose stopped bleeding but was swollen, and she was almost naked but for Roger’s jacket and her jeans. Her chest was covered in blood.

 

“Put some ice on her eye,” Roger instructed. He asked Brianna to press the fabric to her wound as he realised she must have felt uncomfortable with his hand practically touching her breast. “Bri, how many fingers can you see?”

 

She could hardly speak. Her sobs intensified the moment her bandmates asked again what had happened.

 

When the doctors arrived, Roger threw the keys of his van to Deacy, and got into the ambulance with Brianna.

 

…

 

Everything hurt when she opened her eyes. Brianna couldn’t make it where she was or what had happened until she found Roger next to her. He was sitting on what looked like a very uncomfortable chair. He was resting his head on top of his folded arms, which were on her bed, near her hand.

 

Brianna carefully ran a hand over his soft locks, recently dyed blonde. The peroxide shade, though silly, suit him and made him look good. Brianna thought it made his eyes look bluer.

 

She frowned when she saw his red stained wristbands, his favourite ones. Touching her face, she remembered what had happened and soft tears left her eyes. Soon she looked under the covers and saw an important bandage covering a wound and multiple purple bruises all over her legs. She also had a cut on her left arm.

 

Roger opened his eyes when he felt Brianna moving.

 

Silently, he stood up, pushing the chair backwards. Taking a clean tissue, he wiped her tears. “You’re safe now.”

 

“I’m sorry.” Her voice was a mere whisper.

 

Roger didn’t smile. He simply pulled the curls off her forehead and kissed it. “You need to rest, love.”

 

She started crying again.

 

“Do you want to talk about it?” She shook her head. “Okay. It’s okay. I’m here.”

 

He was about to go and fetch his chair when he felt Brianna’s weak grip on his hand. “Don’t leave. Please don’t leave me, Rog.”

 

The drummer’s eyes met hers. There was fear behind her eyes. Fear, pain. She was hurt.

 

And he felt nothing else but the need to go and look for the bastard who had attacked his friend. The doctors told them as soon as they finished checking on her that she had been hit several times, and for what Brianna told them, a man had cut her arm and abdomen with a broken bottle. They assured them she had not been raped, but apparently the man tried to. That explained why they had found her almost naked.

 

As soon as the doctors told them only one of them could stay with her, it was silently agreed Roger was the one staying and looking after Brianna for the night. Freddie gave him a spare t-shirt and a jacket he found at the back of the van and said they were coming back early in the morning.

 

Police officers were also expected to ask Brianna some questions.

 

“What time is it?”

 

Roger looked around for a clock. He found one next to the bed. “Half past five. Nurse’s coming at seven.”

 

Brianna slowly moved on the bed until there was enough room for Roger. “You can’t sleep on a chair.”

 

“No, Bri.”

 

“Roger Meddows Taylor saying no to a lady?” She chuckled softly.

 

The drummer said nothing and Brianna understood. Under the covers, she was wearing nothing but her knickers and a tank top she realised must have been given to her by the nurses or doctors. She smiled a bit when she remembered Freddie the night he dressed her for the first time in a low-cut top and flared leather trousers.

 

“No time to be a prude, Rog.” She whispered softly. “C´mon, you’ve seen me naked.”

 

He climbed onto the bed and felt his muscles relax. The bed wasn’t that bad, actually. He lay down on his back and let Brianna cover him with the few covers they had.

 

Soon enough, he felt Brianna turning on her good side, placing her wounded arm across his stomach, and burying her face on the crook of his neck.

 

Roger’s hand took hers and gave it a soft squeeze. He finally placed his left arm around her shoulders and pulled her even closer to him. As he did so, he felt her soft breathing, which was soothing, as well as her curls on his cheek. Her breasts were pressed against his chest too.

 

Had it been different, he knew he would be making love to Brianna. Roger knew he would be doing what he always did on those dreams he had every now and then. 

 

The drummer felt guilty when he remembered all the things he had thought the moment he saw Brianna on stage wearing those tight jeans and that almost transparent top. He wished he could back in time and be happy his friend was growing into a more confident woman, instead of drooling after her. 

 

He wished it was him the one who went for those beers and not her.

 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, knowing Brianna was still awake. “I shouldn’t have left you alone.  _ I’m so sorry _ , Bri.”

 

Brianna said nothing. She only pressed a kiss to his cheek, and both finally fell asleep.

 

…

 

The guitarist took only one step into her flat and smiled as soon as her eyes met the flowers on her coffee table, the food ready to be eaten, and the box with chocolates sitting on her favourite armchair.

 

Now it made sense why Roger was being so mysterious the moment he picked her up from hospital to take her back home. When asked about the rest, he said Deacy had gone home to visit his family and that Freddie had an appointment with his dentist. Well, Brianna kew her bandmates well enough to know Deacy never visited his family and Freddie hated dentists.

 

“Everything’s vegetarian, darling.” Freddie said as soon as her eyes were on the table.

 

“And everything’s clean. I made sure Freddie didn’t mess up with your kitchen.”

 

“And I’ve got you your favourite flowers and chocolates,” Roger said proud of himself, as he moved the chair for her to sit. “Welcome home, Bri.”

 

She hugged each and tears escaped her eyes. Brianna wanted to say ‘thank you’, but the tears wouldn’t stop. Freddie said she’d better stopped crying or her lovely long eyelashes would fall off and then “how I’m supposed to apply mascara to non-existing eyelashes, darling!”

 

The comment made Brianna laugh a bit.

 

They sat down and ate in comfortable silence until Roger said he highly suspected Freddie hadn’t cooked the meal himself. “You can’t even cook pasta.”

 

“Well,” Freddie shot Roger a murderous look. “I’ve got some help.”

 

“Your mum?” Brianna smiled. “It’s delicious, Fred. I wish I could thank her properly.”

 

The lead singer grinned. “No need to, dear. I’ll pass on your compliments. Now, who wants cake?”

 

As soon as stomachs were full, dishes washed, and the table clean again, the four slowly made their way to Brianna’s couch. Freddie sang some lyrics he said he had been working on while Roger gave it a go with his own guitar. Deacy was silent, occasionally asking Brianna if she wanted him to go and bring her some books from the library since she had been told to rest for a couple of days before going back to uni. 

 

“Thanks, Deacy. But I’ve got some books here that I still need to go through first.”

 

Before it was late, Deacy and Freddie left, leaving the drummer and the guitarist alone. 

 

“I’m staying.” Roger said, knowing what she wanted to say but probably didn’t dare to.

 

Brianna knew she was asking too much. Roger barely left her side ever since the episode. He only agreed to leave to get her some clothes or books, have a shower, change his clothes and bring some food.

 

Every time Roger came back he brought her flowers Brianna knew he couldn’t afford.

 

And the guitarist knew he probably had some girl he wanted to go back to. “I’ll be fine, Rog.”

 

“I’m staying,” he insisted. “Freddie’s bringing Mary over tonight. And they are fucking loud.”

 

Brianna laughed a bit. “ _ You _ can talk.”

 

“Hey, it was only once!” She rolled her eyes. “Can’t help it if the birds can’t keep it low.” He winked at her and she blushed a bit. “Let’s play Scrabble.”

 

It was around midnight when Brianna yawned and tried to stretch her long arms, only to wince at the pain she still felt on her arm and abdomen. The cuts were deep, so she  needed stitches. The doctors said they were as careful as possible, but there would be scars left.

 

While getting ready for bed, Roger volunteered to prepare her medication. Brianna wasn’t surprised while Roger read her prescriptions out loud and explained how the different chemicals were going to react inside her and help her body recover. Even when Roger was known as an average student who studied no more than just a couple of days before his exams, he was actually very good and knew an awful lot about Biology. Specially anatomy and chemistry.

 

“I’ll be in your couch if you need anything. Just shout.” He whispered as he made sure she had taken all her pills and cleaned her wounds just as the doctors had instructed her to. “You sure you all right?”

 

She nodded and thanked him. “Could you… just stay here? Until I fall asleep?”

 

Roger sat on her bed, next to her and silently pulled the dark locks off her face. His baby blue eyes met her swollen eye and nose. He knew there were still weeks before Brianna looked anything like she used to. Her porcelain skin was purple, and it made Roger furious.

 

The police arrived together with the ambulance and asked people in the bar about the incident, but apparently there was no one outside the moment the assault took place. Brianna said she could not see her attacker, explained the man had tried to rape her, but as she fought him back with the bottles of beer she had dropped on the floor, he defended himself stabbing her.

 

This was not directly told to her bandmates. It was the police officer who interviewed Brianna who told this to Roger, Freddie and Deacy. They were also asked questions, and they said they had seen no one outside between the moment they left the bar, and the moment they found Brianna on the floor, covered in blood.

 

But something inside Roger made him hesitate. Something told him Brianna was not telling everything. One afternoon, while she was sleeping, a nurse came to check on her and she commented on the little scars she had on her lower back and on the back of her legs. Everyone assumed they were a couple, and it was convenient if Roger wished to be allowed to stay with her. The nurse eyed him suspiciously when he said he had never seen such marks.

 

Roger believed Brianna could have either been a victim of domestic abuse at home, or that something else had happened recently - something none was aware of.

 

He went back to their little chats between rehearsals, during long drives, during their dinners at her place. Brianna loved her father and her eyes sparked every time she told Roger about the long afternoons she used to spend with him building her Red Special. She said it was her father who had taught her everything she knew about music.

 

Brianna adored the man.

 

But the scars were recent, according to the nurse.

 

Could have been… Tim? Spending the afternoons making her company, sometimes watching her sleep, Roger wondered what could have happened between Brianna and Tim to break up. Correction – what could have happened for Tim  _ to leave _ Brianna.

 

Ever since that night, Brianna never said a word about Tim. Nor Roger asked. The morning after the night Staffell walked out the band, Roger drove Brianna to her place and went inside with the excuse he needed to use her loo. There he found a half-emptied bathroom, and before he left Brianna said that at least she now had more room for her books.

 

Roger went through every moment he had shared with Brianna and Tim. He was loving, seemed to care for her, though they barely showed any PDA. Yes, the drummer never liked the nights when, between many drinks, and when Tim was already shit-faced, he would brag about Brianna, comment how good she was in bed and how lucky he felt. Roger knew he could be… well  _ was _ a womaniser, but the drummer never told his mates about his conquests. He drew a line there. He could forget his ladies’ names, but he never bragged about them.

 

But when he wasn’t shit-faced, and while Brianna was deeply engrossed tuning her guitar, Tim would sit next to Roger and smile at her.

 

“She’s the woman of my dreams.” He laughed a bit. “I know it’s… corny. But she’s… she’s my life, Rog.”

 

Roger never said much. He only patted Tim’s back and gave him a little smile. No, it couldn’t have been Tim. He truly loved Bri. Roger had seen it. He had witnessed it. And Brianna had looked so utterly in love. And then utterly heartbroken when Tim broke up with her outside a bar, behind Roger’s van.

 

“Bri... “ He hesitated but knew it was better if he went straight to the point instead of beating around the bush and make things far more awkward. “who did this to you?”

 

She said nothing.

 

“Bri.” Roger took her hand and fixed his blue eyes on hers. “I’m talking about the old scars. What happened?”

 

When she started crying and sobbing, Roger knew he had pushed too far. She had just come home from hospital, still had stitches and a black eye. The drummer knew Brianna was avoiding mirrors, and not because she cared much about her appearance, but because he knew every time she cleaned her wound, took her medication, or looked at her swollen face, the episode came back to her mind.

 

“Please don’t be angry with me, Rog.”

 

“How could I… Bri, how could I be angry with you?” Roger asked. “Someone hurt you and I want know… I  _ need  _ to know who.”

 

She hesitated. “It was Tim.”

 

“What?”

 

“It was Tim… it was him who hit me and tried to –“

 

Roger didn’t let her finish. He took his keys and made his way to the front door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've got nothing against Tim. This is just a fic. 
> 
> I'll be forever a slut for your kudos, bookmarks, comments, and Roger Taylor. Blame BoRhap...


	6. The aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the aftermath of the attack, Brianna visits her parents and Roger tags along.  
> ALERT: mentions of abuse. If it may trigger something, or if it isn't your cup of tea, don't read this. Or read it and try to skip it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me? Updating again? Yes, because I love fast updates and I've got loads of free time.  
> Thank you guys for the response this fic's getting lately.  
> Don't share this with any of the real people involved in this fic, please. Thank you.

Roger watched Tim Staffell on _Top of the Pops_ performing with Humpy Bong with hatred in his eyes. The stupid man was smiling while he sang, and the drummer wished he could kill him with his bare hands, not before pulling all his teeth, cutting his dick, and feeding it to the rats.

 

The man who had abused and almost raped Brianna was on national television, on the biggest TV show in the country. Roger knew the only place Tim Staffell belonged to was prison. Or hell. Probably both. Well, probably six feet under, actually. If it depended on Roger.

 

At least Brianna wasn’t watching it. Roger was sure she wasn’t because her parents had no television sets anywhere in the house but only in the guests room, where he was currently in, putting on his pyjamas and wishing he could go back to London only to murder Tim Staffell, not before torturing him properly and making him pay for all the damage he had caused to his friend.

 

He quickly turned the TV off when he heard someone knocking his door. “Yes?”

 

“It’s me,” Brianna whispered. “may I come in?”

 

Roger opened the door, not bothering to put on a t-shirt. “Hey.”

 

Brianna was holding a tray with two cups with what looked like hot chocolate and cookies. “Brought these. Mum would always give me some chocolate and cookies before going to bed,” Brianna explained with a smile as she made her way into the room where Roger was spending the weekend. “said you’d probably want some?”

 

“Sure.” The drummer sat next to her on the bed and ate a cookie first.

 

“Sorry about my parents.” He watched her blushing. “They can be really annoying sometimes.”

 

The blonde laughed a bit. “They are the coolest, Bri.”

 

Long months after the attack, Brianna asked the boys if they would like to spend a weekend in her hometown. Deacy had already made plans with his girlfriend Veronica, Freddie said he was thrilled but he was introducing Mary to his parents.

 

Roger accepted because he had no real plans and because ever since the attack he took to look after Brianna subtly. He drove past her flat at night, when he knew she would go to bed, take her everywhere with his van, with the pretext he also had to go to the library to borrow books, visit a bird who happened to live near her place or whatever came to his mind.

 

Upon their arrival, Ruth kissed and hugged Roger as if he were her child and urged him to call her “mum” because Mrs May sounded “too formal”, according to her. Soon Roger knew where Brianna had taken those curls from. Ruth May had wild dark locks she kept well under control in a low bun.

 

And then it was time to meet Mr Harold May. Roger had always imagined Brianna’s father to be a strict man who was probably going to make him sleep five rooms away from Brianna’s, watch all his moves and maybe threaten him with a gun if he thought Roger could hurt his daughter.

 

However, Mr May was really sweet. Probably as sweet as Mum May. He shook Roger’s hand firmly and easily took Brianna into his arms and made her swing on the air, as if she were a five-year-old little girl.

 

The man was even taller than Brianna. Insanely tall. He never stopped telling Brianna how proud he was of her, and how much he had missed her.

 

“My little girl comes home with a boy!” Mr May grinned. “It’s the first time, now that I think of it.” The man turned to Roger and his expression changed. “You came here to ask for my blessing, is that so? Are you planning to ask my Bri’s hand in marriage?”

 

Before Roger could say anything, Brianna stepped in. “Dad… He’s my friend!”

 

“Do young people like you still marry?”

 

Brianna rolled her eyes and apologised for her father’s behaviour. Lunch was uneventful.  Soon after, both parents retreated to their room for a nap leaving Brianna and Roger alone in the house.

 

“It’s been a while since parents left me alone in the house with their daughter,” he said with a grin. “I wonder where your room might be.”

 

“You git,” Brianna said as she patted his arms. “Room’s upstairs. Don’t worry, my parents are heavy sleepers.”

 

The drummer followed her closely, feeling again a bit like the teenager he used to back home.

 

Roger never stopped his flirty nature around her. Not when he knew it made her laugh. What he did stop doing was being so touchy around her. Well, Roger had always been a touchy person, and he enjoyed patting her thigh every now and then and earning a soft smack from Brianna. But ever after the attack, Roger barely lay a finger on her, and limited himself to make enough cheeky or flirty jokes to earn a laugh or two.

 

“This is my room,” Brianna said as she opened the door.

 

Roger’s eyes scanned the place. It was big enough. The walls were painted baby blue, and there were some posters on the walls. There was a bookcase filled with books, an empty desk, a window across the bed facing the May’s large backyard and finally a little wardrobe.

 

Roger lay down on her bed and his eyes soon met the stars glued on the ceiling. Brianna closed the curtains and then turned off the lights for her friend to admire the stars which shone in the dark. “Dad glued them for me. I was five.”

 

“Always fascinated by the stars, huh?”

 

“Always,” she confirmed. “This is my first telescope. Also a present from dad.”

 

They stayed there in comfortable silence, until Brianna lay down next to the drummer. “They thought they were having a boy. That’s why they painted my room blue.” Brianna explained as she let out a little sigh.

 

“Let me guess… they were naming you ‘Brian’.”

 

She turned to him and smiled. “That’s right. Brian Harold May. But I turned out to be a girl, so they just named me Brianna.”

 

“What was it like?” Roger almost whispered. “Your childhood.”

 

She turned to face him. Suddenly, the proximity of their bodies felt comfortable for both. Ever since the incident the boys had tried to be careful with Brianna. The doctors had advised her to see a therapist, but she said she had no time to see one. As she started making more and more progress with her PhD, and as they started having more and more gigs around London (not as if they were big, Roger had to admit they were the same little packed ones) they noticed Brianna was keeping her mind occupied and probably away from that awful night.

 

But they were careful as to what to say and do around her. Freddie barely made her carry out catwalks in her flat every other Sunday. Now he only ‘suggested’ things she could wear every time they played.

 

And so after that night, Brianna went back to her oversized shirts. She applied some make-up and that would be it. She’d try to make her clothes match with those of the rest of the group, but the confident woman Freddie was trying to help come out of Brianna left the night of the attack.

 

“I was a happy child. I guess.” She smiled. “Liked gazing the sky, reading about stars and planets. Dreamt about becoming a rock star.”

 

They stayed there in silence for some time. Brianna soon said they’d better go downstairs before her mother woke up, found them, and thought the wrong thing. “She still thinks we’re together, no matter what I tell her. Let’s not fuel that idea. C’mon, Rog. Let me show you my favourite place.”

 

They spent the afternoon outside, sitting on Brianna’s double swinging chair, under the sun, discussing music. Then, they were joined by Mum and Mr May, who prepared a table full of pastries and tea for the four of them.

 

“You probably want to sleep,” Brianna yawned and placed the empty tea cups on the tray.

 

“Bri,” Roger took her wrist. “Why did you… why did you let him hurt you for so long?”

 

It had been a question burning his insides ever since Brianna told him all about Tim and his outbursts, how the loving relationship they had evolved into violence and abuse.

 

Roger still couldn’t believe he hadn’t realised Brianna was being abused by Tim.  She assured him she had never tried to seek help or make people around her notice the situation she was in, in an attempt to make Roger feel less guilty than he said he felt. The guitarist knew no one else but Tim was guilty of anything in this whole thing. Despite having being mentally, physically and sexually abused for so long, Brianna was able to think and process things in a way Roger couldn’t understand.

 

Because when Roger had asked her why did she let Tim hurt her for so long, she only replied with the truth: she had actually thought Tim could one day change and be himself again.

 

But he never did.

 

“I loved him.” Brianna said, softly. “It all started with a slap, and I thought I deserved it. I…” she snorted. “I thought I deserved it because he was so frustrated with his studies and I…I...”

 

“You don’t need to talk about this, Bri.”

 

“I… I want to.” Her eyes were fixed on his. “I _need_ to tell someone this. Let it out before I can leave it behind. And I’m never again in my life going to talk about… about Tim. You… You don’t need to listen if you don’t want to.”

 

Roger took her hand. “I’m here, Bri.”

 

And so it began. Roger learned how loving Tim had been, how he sometimes left little notes in her bag, in her books, inside her mug, everywhere. All the notes read the same thing.

 

_I love you to the moon and back._

 

Tim was Brianna’s first man. She blushed a bit when she told Roger about her first time, how sweet Tim had been, how much he said he loved her just like she was. Roger knew that, despite being an attractive woman, Brianna was rather self-conscious of her height, her long legs, her tiny waist. She was taller than average, defined herself as lanky and knew she would never be able to look like those women they usually usually saw in their gigs dancing to their music and banging their heads to her solos.

 

But Tim made her feel beautiful. He made her feel the most loved woman on earth.

 

And it all started with a slap. One night, Tim arrived later than usual. He was shit-faced and frustrated because he had failed an exam. Brianna was waiting for him with some food, and when she insisted he had some, he slapped her.

 

“It sent me to the floor,” Brianna remembered. “He knelt next to me and cried. He said he was sorry and he begged me to forgive him. I…” She stopped and shook he head at her own naivety. “I blamed myself. I thought I was being annoying, too pushy maybe. So from that moment on I… I did everything I could to please him.”

 

And then Roger learnt Tim and Brianna had been looking for a new drummer because Tim had fired the previous one. He thought Brianna was having an affair with him. That night, Tim punched Brianna, almost breaking her nose. “He got to beat me every now and then... when he was frustrated, drunk, or when he thought men were flirting with me.” She explained and, as she did so, Roger saw the tears forming in her eyes. “And then he would always try to fix it. Kiss me. Take me to bed. Make love to me. Promise me the world, the moon… the stars.”

 

“Did he ever…” Roger was trying to be very careful with his choice of words. “did he ever hit you after I joined the band?”

 

A nod.

 

Roger felt his heart sinking.

 

After some long seconds, she spoke again. “Remember when I helped you study for that chemistry exam?” The drummer nodded. “When I got home he… he wanted to have sex. I said I was tired and not really in the mood and he... “ She only stopped to look into his eyes.

 

Roger took a deep breath. “Did he force you?”

 

“Yes.” The drummer watched trolling down her cheeks.. “I didn’t fight him back. I just let him take me and do whatever he pleased with me. I knew it… it soothe him. Taking me… without me really… doing anything.”

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

She gave him a little smile. “Why are you sorry?”

 

“If I had known…” He stood up and faced the window. He saw her parents sitting on the swinging chairs and wondered what would they do if they knew. Roger was sure Harold would probably hunt Tim down and cut his neck. “I’d have killed him, Bri. Why didn’t you ask for help?”

 

She shrugged. “I loved him, Rog. I’m sorry.”

 

“Please, don’t say you’re sorry.” Roger sat next to her again. “Promise me you’ll come to me - us. You’ll come to me or Deacy or Fred. We’re family, right? Families protect each other. I promise I won’t let anyone hurt you again.”

 

He felt Bri’s long arms around his neck. Roger pressed his arms tightly around her thin waist and took in her soft flowery scent. When she loosened her grip on him, there were mere inches apart from each other’s lips.

 

His baby blue eyes were on hers.

 

Slowly, she pressed a shy kiss on his cheek and took the tray with her.

 

Roger couldn’t sleep that night thinking in every possible way he could hurt Tim Staffell before killing him.

 

…

 

It was Sunday and they were leaving in the afternoon. When during lunch Harold recalled all the hours he and his daughter had spent working on her guitar, Roger learned her parents did not know much about Queen.

 

Not because they didn’t care, but because Brianna hadn’t told them much about them and the little success they were having now. Well, they haven’t recorded a thing in their lives, but they were proud of their little performances here and there, as well as the pub owners who called them to perform to a packed little crowd.

 

They didn’t leave until Mum May gave Brianna and Roger enough food to feed an army and made them promise they’d be back soon.

 

“I’ll miss you, Bri,” Roger heard her mother say. “Come more often, my girl. We miss you.”

 

“I will, mum.”

 

“I’m proud of you, my little girl.” Her father said as he took her into his arms. “You’ll become a great scientist. You already are.”

 

“Thanks, dad. I love you.”

 

Roger received the equal number of hugs and amount of love. And Brianna promised to bring more friends around next time.

 

“Dad doesn’t approve much.” Brianna said as soon as Roger assured they were less than an hour from home. “Thinks music’s just a hobby. Something I use to distract myself.”

 

“S’alright, I suppose. Mine think the same. Haven’t told them I switched to Biology.”

 

“You’re not dropping out altogether at least.”

 

Roger slowed down. “Are you dropping out your PhD?”

 

She didn’t answer straight away. “I’m trying to do as much as possible. I still have tons of work to do before I start writing my dissertation.”

 

“And if we make it big?”

 

Brianna ignored his question and as Roger pulled over, she took her keys off her bag and asked the drummer if he could help her with the food her mother hand given her.

 

…

 

Roger arrived only to meet Freddie sitting by his piano, notes all around him. “Writing?”

 

“Trying to.” The lead singer eyed him and smiled as soon as his eyes fell on the bags the drummer was carrying and taking to their kitchen. “Had fun?”

 

“Yeah. Mum May gave enough food to live for at least two weeks without going to the shops.”

 

“ _Mum May_?”

 

“She insisted.”

 

“Oh.” Freddie went back to his notes.

 

Roger sat next to the singer and started reading the notes Freddie had left for him to take a look at. “We’ve got to do something, Fred.”

 

“And that is?”

 

“Did you watch _Top of the Pops_?” The drummer asked, disgusted. “Fucking shit. I’ve got to find out where he lives.”

 

Freddie frowned confusedly. “Why would you do that?”

 

“Why would I...?” Roger snorted. “Are you seriously asking?”

 

Neither said anything for long seconds, until Roger ran a hand over his face. “We’ve got to do something, Fred.” He repeated.

 

And the lead singer only nodded. “Yes. And that something is not committing a crime.”

 

“Are you joking? Why not? He… he hurt her, for fuck’s sake!” Roger screamed. “He almost rapes her… what? Ten feet away from us?”

 

Freddie saw this coming. He knew Roger and he also knew the drummer would not rest until he knew Tim Staffell was buried somewhere six feet under for everything he had done to Brianna. Freddie wasn’t aware to what extent Tim had hurt Brianna, since all he knew was that Tim was the one who had attacked her that night. Everything that had happened before the attack would always be a secret between Roger and Brianna. He had promised her he wasn’t telling anyone about Tim abusing her.

 

Freddie still couldn’t quite understand why Brianna refused to tell the police it had been Tim. Weeks after the episode she told her bandmates and begged them to stop pretending nothing had happened, to please forget that night, and to understand she didn’t wish to denounce Tim for what he did.

 

It was too late to do something, actually. There were no witnesses, no prints, nothing. Brianna could denounce him, yes. But did she have any proof? No.

 

Freddie kissed her forehead and said she had nothing to worry about. The three men promised to look after her. The three promised that no one would ever hurt her again.

 

In the days and weeks after the attack, the three knew Brianna still found it difficult to look at them in the eye after the state in which they had found her, and after the whole thing. Without really talking about it, the three, Freddie, Roger, and Deacy knew Brianna was embarrassed they had seen her naked.

 

Now when they had to perform, they’d give her the little room they were usually given to herself while they changed somewhere else. Freddie stopped telling her what to wear and bringing her those low-cut tops he knew made her look like a goddess.

 

Perhaps, Freddie was the only one who could fully grasp the pain Brianna felt.

 

“Rog,” Freddie said softly, as he placed his hands on the blonde’s shoulders. “we all want to cut Tim’s dick and throw it to the rats. I’d do it myself if I could, darling. But right now, Brianna doesn’t need a murderer. She needs _us_.”

 

Roger had to admit Freddie was right. But of course, he wasn’t going to admit it.

 

“What we’ve got to do right now and always is protect her.”

 

Roger said nothing. He returned to the notes.

 

Freddie grinned as his hands returned to his piano. “I know you’ll always look after her.”

 

“Hmm?”

 

“Nothing, dear.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So we're leaving the drama behind (for now). Queen will start making slow progress and a certain man, determined to take Brianna's heart, makes an appearance. Can you guess who he might be?  
> Here I'm a slut for your kudos, comments, bookmarks, Roger Taylor and Ben Hardy. Blame BoRhap...


	7. Chris

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Queen starts to make it big, it seems Brianna finally meets the man of her life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me? Updating again? I'm always like 'but I did post one chapter yesterday... shouldn't I wait for a bit?' and then I'm like 'screw it, there are no rules. I'll update this whenever I want to'. So here it is. 
> 
> I've decided to combine both the original timeline and facts with those of the film. 
> 
> Please, don't share this with any of the people involved in this fic. Thanks.

 

_ Late 1973 - Early 1974 _

 

Brianna watched Roger sulking on the couch and gave him a knowing smile. The drummer met her eyes, but immediately looked away, not wanting her to meet his anger. 

 

“You know, I think you need to have a little bit of faith this time,” she almost whispered, as they listened to Freddie sing in the vocal booth. “I think Fred’s right.”

 

“It was a perfectly good van.”

 

“I know.”

 

“No, you don’t know, Bri.” Roger said angrily, yet managed to keep his voice as low as he could so no one around wouldn’t listen to him. “What if we fail, huh? That van was all I had.”

 

His blue eyes watched Brianna’s hand moving towards his. He relaxed as she laced her fingers with his. Roger looked up and watched his girlfriend sleeping against Mary. “You don’t trust Freddie, do you?”

 

Roger said nothing. 

 

“Then, trust me. Can you do that for me?”

 

“I s’pose.”

 

Brianna smiled at him as if he were a small child and kissed his cheek. Then, Freddie left the booth and she took her Red Special. She took one last look at him, and slowly made her way into the booth to record her parts.

 

...

 

“Freddie says you’re a scientist.”

 

Brianna smiled at Freddie’s mother. “Astrophysics, actually.”

 

“Incredible!”

 

“I have an announcement to make…”

 

They were finally making it big. Well, if recording an album during odd hours meant making it big.

 

But at last they were heard by someone, that someone talked to other people and finally they were recording their songs, being experimental, trying new sounds and working themselves to the bone.

 

They were living together in a house plagued with cockroaches and insects because playing in little places every now and then, working on a PhD, or having a market stall didn’t pay much. Brianna could no longer pay the bills, buy food and books on the little money the scholarship supplied. She was not asking her parents for help and Freddie and Roger realised the more people the merrier. That is to say, the more people they had to split the bills with, the better. Deacy joined them since his flatmate deserted him.

 

And so the four of them shared a house. They were lucky enough to have each their room. The day they moved in, it was agreed Brianna was to take the largest room since there she would have enough space to have a desk apart from her bed where she could study and focus on her doctorate. It was a kind gesture Brianna accepted with a genuine smile. 

 

But the catch was that Roger was sleeping next door and he was the loudest when it came to sex. Brianna couldn’t care less since she had good headphones (present from her parents on her latest birthday). 

 

Freddie followed on the scale, but Brianna was thankful their lead singer spent far more nights at Mary’s rather than their shared house. And finally Deacy, who invited his girlfriend Veronica over every now and then, but mainly for lunch or dinner. He was the only one who wasn’t taking anyone to his room to stay the night. 

 

Yes, Deacy was the only one because Brianna was very good at bringing ‘a friend’ over without her other three friends noticing. It wasn’t difficult to get him into the house when Deacy was always early for bed, Freddie mostly at Mary’s, and Roger having fun with a girl in his room. The following morning, it was equally easy to get him out, since no one was ever up at 6 in the morning. 

 

It took Brianna almost a year before she let herself fall in love again with a man who loved her enough for her to think he might be ‘the one’.

 

Brianna, knowing for a fact Freddie, Deacy and Roger would not be back until very late, or probably very early in the morning, welcomed her friend into the house, into her bedroom to be more precise, and was as loud as she wanted to be. Knowing there was no one in the house was nice. 

 

Nice until she heard Roger knocking her door.

 

“Bri, you all right?”

 

Brianna’s eyes fell immediately on her door as she tried to recall whether she had locked it or not. “Yeah, going to sleep.”

 

“‘K,” Roger said. “Just heard some noises. That’s all.”

 

“Night, Rog!”

 

That was the moment Brianna knew she would have to introduce Chris. 

 

...

 

And so one morning, Christian Mullen appeared in their living room.

 

Everyone remembered the morning they met him. They were all having breakfast (mainly plain tea without milk and no cookies or bread because certain drummer forgot to go to the shops the day before) in their little living room when a shy Brianna appeared wearing nothing else but a silky robe no one had ever seen her on tied around her frame, and a tall man behind her.

 

Everyone was too shit-faced to listen to the noises coming from Brianna’s room the night before.

 

Everyone except certain drummer.

 

He might have been shit-faced and had the worst hangover of his life, but Roger still could hear her moans coming from next door.

 

They had left the night before to get something to drink and the plan was as simple as this: go, drink, come back home. Brianna said she was staying because she was meeting her tutor in the morning to finally start writing her dissertation.

 

So, as it is, the three men left, and many drinks in between they remembered they had to get home because they could be called to record any time. Trident had provided them with odd hours and they had to be ready for their call.

 

Thing is, they could barely remember how they made it home that night. Roger only recalled knocking on her door after hearing some noises, asking if she was okay, and only getting a “yeah, just going to sleep.”

 

“Morning.”

 

“Well, good morning to  _ you _ , darling. Who’s the gentleman standing behind you? You can come out, darling. No one’s gonna bite you.” Freddie asked with a grin. 

 

Even Deacy grinned at the sight of Brianna blushing from head to toes.

 

“He’s, uh, Chris. Chris Mullen.” Brianna said as she bit her lower lip. “A friend.”

 

“Pleasure to meet you,” the man said, apparently someone else than a ‘friend’. “Freddie Mercury, I presume?” He had a deep voice which somehow matched his look. “Brianna told me an awful lot about you.”

 

Freddie took his hand and gestured him to sit down. “Pleasure’s all ours. Now, Bri, you didn’t tell us you had such a  _ handsome _ friend.”

 

Chris rubbed his neck nervously. He took the seat Freddie had offered him and looked at the rest. “You must be John.”

 

“That’s me, yes.” They shook hands.

 

Chris’ green eyes met Roger’s. “And you’re Roger.”

 

Brianna sat across Roger and next to Chris the moment the drummer shook hands with ‘her friend’. “The one and only.” Roger’s eyes met Brianna’s and she smiled at him.

 

“Have some tea with us, dear. No, no, no, Bri,” Freddie said as he watched Brianna standing to get the mugs and the pot. “You sit here with your friend, I’ll get it for you.”

 

And with that, their lead singer ventured into the kitchen.

 

“I don’t really want to impose.”

 

“Don’t you worry, darling! I wish we could offer you something else, but our beloved Goldilocks here forgot to do the shopping.” Freddie said as he came back, carrying two mugs with hot tea and shooting Roger a murderous look.

 

Chris laughed a bit and accepted the mug. As he settled and talked with Freddie, Roger watched Brianna’s eyes on Chris. The man was a bit muscular. He had blonde hair, a shade darker than Roger’s. He was wearing a pristine white shirt, a pair of dark blue jeans, and a black leather jacket. He clearly wasn’t the rock ‘n roll type. Looked more like a lawyer than anything else. And he was insanely tall. Taller than Brianna, and probably even taller than Mr May.

 

The man looked nothing like Tim.

 

Past experiences (mainly his sister) had taught Roger some women tended to date men who looked similar. The ‘some women’ could not be applied to everyone and less to Brianna.

 

Soon Roger saw Brianna taking Chris’ hand, which was on the table.

 

“So, Chris, what is it that our brilliant Brianna here’s been telling you about us?” Freddie asked with a genuine smile. “Nothing too embarrassing, I hope.”

 

Chris turned to Brianna and gave her a quick peck on her lips. “She’s told me how much you look after her. I know she feels safe with you, guys. So I must thank you for that… for making her feel happy and  _ cared for _ .”

 

Between two more rounds of plain tea, the boys discovered Chris was a lawyer and had been ‘friends with’ Brianna for a couple of months. He had also been to one of their shows without them knowing. Obviously, Brianna had invited him and according to Chris, watching her play and listening to her singing made him realise he was in love with her. 

 

“You are amazing,” Chris said with a sincere smile. “Bri’s been telling me about the album and the possible tour in Japan. I know you’re gonna be big.”

 

Freddie didn’t miss the look on Roger’s face the moment Brianna took Chris’ hand to her lips and kissed his knuckles.

 

…

 

Having released their first album, touring three different countries in Europe (a complete failure, but their first tour anyway), and being hired to support Mott the Hoople made Brianna finally drop her doctorate studies. That, plus moving in with Chris Mullen made the guitarist become estranged with her father, who said ‘it was a disgrace’ to end her career for something that would ‘leave her starving’ and ‘indecent’ to move in with man ‘without marrying him first.’ Brianna told the boys how much it hurt her listening to her father calling her ‘an indecent young woman’ and being told they were ‘disappointed in her’ for dropping her studies.

 

“I thought he knew you lived with us?” Roger asked.

 

“Not really. I told him I lived with three girls.”

 

Freddie grinned. “So, what are you gonna do, darling? Marry Chris?” he asked.

 

Such question, which was obviously asked humorously, left everyone laughing. Everyone except Brianna, whose eyes were on her Red Special the moment she told her bandmates the news.

 

“Actually, we’re engaged.” She looked up and showed them her ring which, so far, had gone unseen by her bandmates. “He proposed a couple of weeks ago.”

 

John was the first to react, since he was sitting next to her. He placed a hand on her arm and gave him a side hug, wishing her all the best. Freddie practically jumped on top of her. He made Brianna promise he could help her with the wedding and her dress.

 

“Because no member of this family shall marry in an ugly dress.”

 

“Well, no one else but me will wear a dress on their wedding day since I’m the only woman in the band.” Brianna joked.

 

Freddie winked. “You never know, my dear. I might use a dress myself on my own wedding day.”

 

The drummer was the last to hug her. “Congratulations, love” he winked at her and kissed her forehead. “Well, I guess I won’t be able to flirt with you anymore.”

 

“I’ll miss it.” she smiled.

 

“Shall we drink some champagne?”

 

“You shall. I can’t drink though.”

 

Roger narrowed his eyes. “Are you pregnant?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“What?” Deacy almost dropped his tea.

 

Freddie was jumping up and down. “Oh my God, oh my God. Really?“

 

“I’m joking!” Brianna laughed her head off. “We’re touring Japan soon. We’re finally making it big... I’ve already discussed this with Chris. And neither of us want kids right now.”

 

The lead singer was the first to take her hand and kiss it. “We can always put things off. Wait for you. Don’t stop your family because of us.”

 

“You’re my family.” She said, with her eyes on Roger’s.

 

…

 

And so after touring the UK with Mott the Hoople and before touring Japan, Brianna married Chris Mullen on a modest wedding in her family’s backyard. The Queen members and their significant others were the only ones invited to the wedding, apart from Brianna and Chris’ parents and some of his friends.

 

Brianna wore a simple white dress. Nothing fancy. She didn’t let Freddie help her with her dress since they had little money to spare but she did let her help her with her hair and make- up: Freddie made her wild curls look somehow tamed and in place.

 

Roger watched his friend promising eternal love and something inside stung. He was happy to see Brianna had finally found happiness in a man who loved her deeply. But it wasn’t just that. Chris respected Brianna and her career as a musician. He supported hers and their dreams. He was there to take Brianna to their rehearsals, watch their shows every time his job allowed him to, and was also there to give her a kiss after a performance and say she was the love of his life.

 

Perhaps it wasn’t pain what he felt while seeing his friend marrying the love of her life. It was losing her in a way… Because he was right. He was going to miss flirting with her, even when it was futile since both knew Brianna would never fall for his charms. It was a joke, really. But he would really miss calling her silly names, touching her, and getting little smacks in return.

 

They were having lunch after the ceremony when Mum May asked Brianna about their honeymoon. 

 

“We’re not having one, actually.” Brianna explained. “We’re touring Japan. And America.”

 

Mum May’s eyes shifted between Brianna to her now husband. “But you’re going too, aren’t you, Chris?”

 

“I’d love to. I love their music and watching them play,” Chris said with a smile. “but I’m afraid I can’t. I’ve got plenty of work as it is.” 

 

Just as Brianna and Queen, Chris was also slowly making it big, having joined an important law firm a couple of months ago.

 

Mr May’s eyes fell on his food. He welcomed Chris Mullen with open arms when he saw the man was truly in love with his daughter. But he still was adamant to accept Brianna’s choice of career. 

 

Freddie patted his back stood up to give a little speech. “We’ll look after Bri and we promise you’ll have your honeymoon as soon as the tour ends. Chris, darling, we welcome you to the Queen family and thank you for making our beautiful Brianna happy. It makes us equally happy to see her like this. Now, to Bri and Chris!”

 

They were all dancing when Brianna realised she had danced with every man present but Roger. “Why aren’t you dancing with me?”

 

“Thought you’d never ask, love.” He placed his hands on her waist. “Oops, forgot it.”

 

Brianna chuckled. “Chris doesn’t mind, you know. I don’t mind either.”

 

“D’you love him?”

 

“Yes,” Brianna nodded.

 

Roger bit his lip. “How’s the sex?”

 

Brianna patted his arm. “Rog!”

 

“Just making conversation!” Roger said, faking a hurt expression.

 

Brianna chuckled. “The sex’s  _ amazing _ ... Mind blowing. Perfect.”

 

“I wonder what he does to make you smile like that, love.” He smiled. “You’ll be okay, then. Just give me a call if you get bored.”

 

“You know, Rog” Brianna gave his hand a soft squeeze. “just because I’m married it doesn’t mean you can’t stop by. I miss our little dates.” Brianna confessed, as she leaned more against the drummer. “We’re friends, right?”

 

Every now and then Roger would stop by Brianna and Chris’ and take her out for lunch, have tea or sometimes he would just hang out at her flat and discuss music and things. He always avoided visiting when he knew Chris was home. He had never wanted to intrude when he knew Brianna’s timetables with recording, rehearsing and touring limited her time with Chris, who also worked long hours.

 

“Of course, love. Just didn’t want to intrude.”

 

“You’ll never intrude, Rog. Chris likes you. And John and Freddie.”

 

“May I have this dance?”

 

Roger stepped back without saying a word and returned to his chair. There, he lit a cigarette and watched Brianna dance with Chris.

 

Never in his life he felt such a pain on his chest.

 

And he didn’t know why.

 

But in the years to come, he will.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... Chris Mullen? I love the slow burn, so you'll have to bear with me... 
> 
> Here I'm a slut for your comments, kudos, bookmarks, Rogah Taylah and Ben Hardy. Blame BoRhap..


	8. Stargazers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Queen is touring America, Brianna misses Chris and Roger tries to lift her spirits by being a cheeky bastard.
> 
> ALERT: Just a little dose of smut... well,y'all came here for it, didn't you?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Another update! This chapter is just a little in-between thing... with some revelations, though. 
> 
> Thanks for the comments, kudos, bookmarks. 
> 
> Don't share this with any of the people involved in this fic, please. Thanks.

_ “God, Bri,” Roger panted. “Your mouth… shit!” _

 

_ When he opened his eyes Brianna was no longer in her knees and her mouth was no longer around his throbbing member. She was crawling on top of him and whispering sweet things to his ear.  _

 

_ “Take me, Rog. Make me yours.” _

 

_ She pulled him on top of her and opened her longs legs for him. “I’ve seen the way you look at me, Roger. C’mon. You want me, don’t you? Tell me how much you want me…” _

 

_ “I want you so much.” _

 

_ “What are you waiting for?” _

 

_ He entered her softly, trying to take in her face, the way she closed her eyes and threw her head back. Her long hands were on his back and soon he felt her nails as he pushed himself deeper and deeper into her. Her walls were warm and tight around him. _

 

_ When he pulled out, Brianna whined. “Harder…” _

 

_ And when he was inside her again, he smirked when he found her soft spot and Brianna started screaming and begging him for more. “Bri… you feel amazing.” _

 

_ He watched her melting underneath him. “Just fuck me hard, Rog… Stop fooling around...”  _

 

_ Roger didn’t let her finish. He pounded into her so hard he could feel the bed almost breaking, the headboard hitting the wall. The noises the bed made, the noises escaping her lips, her longs legs around him… it was intoxicating, fuelling his desire to take her rough, the way she wanted him to. He had never felt like this before. Brianna was perfect. She moved and made the perfect sounds for him.  _

 

_ He took one nipple between his teeth and earned a loud moan from her lips. “You’re so… delicious.” _

 

_ “Rog, I’m close.” _

 

_ “Come for me, baby. I’m close too.” _

 

“Hey, Rog… Rog!”

 

“Yes....”

 

When Roger opened his eyes, he was greeted by the sight of Brianna bending over him, and watching him with worried eyes. “Rog, you okay?”

 

Was it a dream… again? “What… yes, yes I’m fine.”

 

“Bad dream?”

 

Roger buried his face into the pillow and prayed (to the God he didn’t believe in) Brianna hadn’t notice his massive erection under the covers. “Sort of.”

 

“Wanna talk about it?”

 

What if I tell her the truth, huh? Hey, Bri, I’ve been dreaming about us having mind blowing sex ever since we have to share rooms in fucking shit hole hotels because John Reid didn’t give us enough money. And guess what? In all those dreams I always wake up when we’re about to come. 

 

No way he was telling her the truth. 

 

And now she was sitting on his bed, very close to him, and Roger noticed she was only wearing a very long tee, no shorts, just her underwear. Great. Thank you, Bri. Those long legs are quite helpful, you know.

 

“Something’s bothering you.” When she got no response, she ran a hand over his blonde locks affectionately, pulling them off his face, her motherly side coming to surface again. “You can talk to me, you know.”

 

“It wasn’t a bad dream.”

 

“Oh.”

 

When Roger left his pillow and turned to lay on his back and face Brianna, he really wished she wouldn’t see his pink cheeks. “I was… I was having sex in my dream.”

 

Brianna laughed softly and stood up to sit on her own bed. “Wanna go to the toilet and take care of it?” 

 

Roger did as she suggested, not before taking the pillow with him and using it to cover his massive erection. It was embarrassing enough to have your bandmate, who happened to be a woman, knowing you had to masturbate because you had an aching erection after a wet dream. 

 

When he returned, she wasn’t on her bed, but sitting outside on the little balcony. It was still dark and, as they were literally in the middle of only God knew where in bloody America, the little lights allowed her to look at the million stars above them. 

 

Roger sat next to her. He was about to lit a cigarette but soon remembered how much Brianna disliked cigarettes. “Miss the hubby?”

 

“All day, every day.” She admitted, softly.

 

Three days after the wedding, Queen left to Japan and then America. It had been two long months and they still had a couple of weeks left before heading back to England. Every night, the whole band would look for a phone and call their loved ones. They always let Brianna make her calls first. 

 

Being conscious there were three other people waiting, Brianna was always quick. She phoned her parents, let them know where she was, and then she phoned Chris. Roger once heard a bit of their conversation. For what he could make, Chris was, as well as Mr May, closely following their tour. Apparently Mr May had a map where he kept track of their journey. They were bonding quite well without Brianna and that made her immensely happy since her parents had little time to get to know Chris before they got married. 

 

Roger lost himself gazing the stars. Brianna pointed a few constellations and told him a few things about them. This made the drummer wonder if she missed her studies. She was so close to finally getting her doctorate, that Roger almost agreed with Mr May when he said it was a really pity she left when there was almost nothing left to complete it. 

 

Freddie talked to her countless times, but the guitarist was determined to drop out. And she told them so, ‘this is our chance, what we’ve been waiting for so long. We’re not stopping’. Brianna said that maybe, when she was too old to tour the world with them, maybe she then she would go back to uni and finish her bloody dissertation. 

 

“I don’t know if this is fair for Chris.”

 

“What d’you mean?”

 

“This… us touring.”

 

“Did he say anything?”

 

Brianna shook her head. “He’s following our tour with dad. Says they’ve got a map.”

 

“Then why worry?”

 

“We married and three days later I left. It’s been almost two months and I can’t wait for the day to go back home. If we make it big -”

 

“We  _ are _ making it big. Tickets are sold out every night, love. EMI wants us. We’re recording another album next year.”

 

She bit her lip. “It’s just… I don’t want to lose him.”

 

“Why would you lose him?” Roger asked, watching as her eyes were fixed on her wedding ring. “Why d’you think that, Bri?”

 

“Because…” Her eyes were on the dark sky again. “I left everything for Queen. My parents, my studies. Now him…”

 

“Hold on, are you saying you’re gonna leave him for Queen?”

 

“No. I’m saying that at some point I’ll have to leave Queen to have my own family.”

 

It had never crossed their minds Brianna’s condition as a woman would one day mean she’d have to choose between them and having a family. They knew if they got married and decided to have children, they could carry on recording and touring. They’d have wives to stay at home to raise their kids. But not Brianna. 

 

“We’ll wait for you, Bri. You know that.” Her eyes were still on the sky when Roger took her hand and kissed it, just like the first time they met. 

 

“This is everything we’ve ever wanted. We’re on tour. We’re recording another album. We finally have people who pack our instruments,” She said and gave him a smile. “If I’ve got to be honest… I don’t want to stop.”

 

“Well, we can always tour with a baby. Uncle Rog will look after his nephew.” Both laughed at his silly comment. 

 

“It’s getting a bit cold. Let’s go to bed.”

 

“Really?”

 

“Not like _ that _ ,” she smacked his arm softly. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

 

He hugged her from behind and kissed her neck softly. “But you love me. And I love you. You’re my favourite woman in this band.”

 

“I’m the only woman in this band.”

 

Roger grinned. They got each into their respective beds and remained in complete silence for long minutes. The drummer knew Brianna was still up, probably thinking about Chris back in England. 

 

He had always felt he was lucky not to have someone waiting for him back home. That way he could have all the fun of the world backstage. American women were definitely sexy and wild. But it was really… depressing, just a bit, to listen to his bandmates talking to their girlfriends and husband on the phone, and listening to how much they miss them.

 

“What you gonna do, first thing when we go back to England?”

 

Brianna turned to face him. Roger could tell she was slightly pink on the cheeks. “I’m locking myself and Chris in our room and not leaving in at least a week. Then, I’m having a proper cup of tea.”

 

“Sex? Really? I thought better of you, Bri.”

 

“ _ You _ can talk… anyway, you’re not the only one with needs, you know.”

 

Roger smirked. “And what d’you do about it, love? Touch yourself in the shower? C’mon, tell daddy Rog all about it.”

 

“That’s just really creepy, Rog! I’m sleeping with Deacy tomorrow.”

 

“He snores.”

 

“Freddie then.”

 

“His feet smell.” Roger smiled at her. “Let’s face it, love. You’re stuck with me.”

 

Brianna laughed and threw a pillow on is direction. “Night, Rog.”

 

“Night, love. Sleep tight.”

 

“You too,” She whispered mischievously. “This time try not to dream with me, ‘k?”

 

Roger frowned. And then he panicked when he realised what Brianna was talking about. Wait, how did she know? 

 

“I heard you. You speak a lot when you sleep, did you know that?” She smiled at him affectionately. “ _ ‘Bri… you feel amazing’ _ ? Really, Rog?”

 

“I swear it wasn’t you!” Brianna rolled her eyes and laughed at his face. “Bri -”

 

“Stop apologising. I don’t mind. I find it quite flattering, actually.”

 

Roger spent the following day apologising. He gave Brianna flowers, chocolates, and even offered to take her out for dinner and polish her Red Special with his own toothbrush.

 

“What’s he done?” Deacy asked. 

 

“He -”

 

“Don’t tell them!”

 

Freddie suddenly joined them. “I heard drama so here I am.”

 

“Bri, don’t tell them!”

 

“He walked in on me when I was getting dressed, that’s all.” Brianna lied as she analised the tiles she had available to see whether she could form a good word or not. “It isn’t a big deal. I was in my underwear, anyway.”

 

“Spying on Mrs Mullen?” Freddie asked with a mischievous grin. He never called Brianna ‘Mrs Mullen’, and when he did so, it was only to take the piss. “Oh, I wonder what Mr Mullen has to say about that…”

 

Roger elbowed him on the ribs. “Shut up, Fred!”

 

“Rog, I really thought better of you, you know,” Brianna said, faking a hurt tone. 

 

Watching Roger sulking and laying on his back, with his cheeks deeply red, made Brianna leave the Scrabble game she was playing with Deacy. Soon Freddie took over, and the two men became deeply engrossed in the game to pay any attention to their drummer and their guitarist. 

 

She sat next to him, and carefully pulled her dyed locks off his face. “I was joking, Rog.”

 

“I’m sorry, Bri.”

 

She pressed a kiss to his cheek and smiled. “Don’t be silly, Rog. C’mon, let’s go.”

 

“Where to?”

 

“Oh, I thought you were taking me out for dinner.”

 

He stood up and grinned. Roger took her hand and led the way to the nearest and less shittiest restaurant near their hotel. 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I won't be able to update for a week or so because I'm going on holidays. Yeah, sorry about that but hey, Rockfield Farm's just around the corner, guys. And lots of things are gonna happen... 
> 
> Here I'm a slut for your kudos, comments, bookmarks, Roger Taylor and Ben Hardy. Gwilym Lee also. Blame BoRhap...


	9. Back Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Queen goes to Rockfield Farm and Roger knows he is killing Paul Prenter soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What? Didn't you update today? Yes, but I'm back again with a little thing, just before going to the airport! I couldn't leave you guys without a little peek of Rockfield Farm, right? Thank you for all your lovely comments! I'm always looking forward to reading your thoughts on this. Thank you!  
> Someone asked where this is heading and if I'm covering Chrissy and Brian's marriage. All I can say (I'm really not supposed to!) is that this story will have an ending that I think will please you all guys. And no, I'm not covering the whole marriage (they were married for like 10 years! so no way) because it'd make this fic insanely long. But there will be a twist! 
> 
> Please, don't share this with any of the people involved in this fic, please. Thanks!

_1975_

 

Brianna could barely sleep a wink during the long fly back home. Instead of sleeping like Freddie, Deacy and Roger, she kept herself busy reading a couple of science magazines she had bought at the airport. There had been important advances in the Astrophysics field, and Brianna read everything with eagerness.

 

A couple of days ago, Chris phoned her and told her a letter addressed to her had arrived. The moment Chris read the name, Brianna’s eyes lit up. It was Richard, a friend who had studied with Brianna back at Imperial. The guitarist asked Chris to open the letter and read it for her. Richard wished Brianna good luck with her musical career and wrote he would like to go and watch her and Queen play. Richard also wrote that he was working on a paper on interplanetary dust and, as he knew she was the only expert on the matter, he was asking her if she would like to join him.

 

Now going back to Astrophysics was as exciting as going back home to Chris.

 

“Hey, love.”

 

“Hmm.”

 

Brianna soon felt Roger's hand resting on her thigh, close to her knee. He gave it a soft squeeze and leaned in to look out the window. “I’ve fucking missed England.”

 

“Hmm.”

 

“You okay?”

 

“Yeah, just reading.” The guitarist closed the magazine with a sigh and shifted on her place. She moved her legs to cross them, pulling Roger’s hand away softly.

 

They were all quiet for the rest of the flight. Touring two countries had been a real challenge. The countless shows, the long roads, staying up till long hours almost every night, then sleeping during the day… they were making it big. Their first album hit the charts in the US… John Reid said that soon after they released their second album they were probably touring the world.

 

Brianna still didn’t know how she would manage to record, tour, record, tour and so on with a husband waiting for her back home. When Chris proposed and Brianna said yes, she reminded him she was not going to be home for long periods of time. She said she was not going to be there for him every night when he came back home from work.

 

"I guess I won't be the wife you deserve."

 

“I don't want you to be a housewife. I want you to chase your dreams with Queen. I’ll always support your projects, Bri,” he said between kisses.

 

Brianna didn’t smile back. “And there’s the question of… children.”

 

“We’re young, my love. Your dreams come first. You and the boys are releasing an album. The whole world will know you.” Chris said, giving her hand a soft squeeze. “We can wait.”

 

They were greeted by Mary, Ronnie, John Reid and Paul Prenter at the airport. There were no fans yet, but Freddie said they should cherish their last moments as ‘ordinary people’, as he liked to put it.

 

“Next time, we’re having people kissing the floor we step on.” Brianna smiled but said nothing. “Where’s Chris, dear?” Freddie asked, once everyone was reunited with their respective partners.

 

“Working. Didn’t tell him we were back today.”

 

Fred winked at her. “Want to surprise the hubby, huh?”

 

She blushed. “Kind of.”

 

“Well, darling, shall we give you a ride back to your little love nest?”

 

“I’m taking a cab. Thanks, Fred.” They all hugged and promised to see each other soon.

 

'Soon' meant a couple of weeks, probably in a month, and perhaps on Christmas Day. They had to live together in shit hole hotels, share long roads, practice, rehearse, play together… they were quite fed up and by now everyone needed a break and spent some quality time with their families.

 

…

 

When Chris finally made it home, he wasn’t expecting to find the table set, the smell of delicious food coming from the kitchen, and Brianna standing in the middle of their living room.

 

They kissed for long minutes until Brianna reminded him she was still cooking. He decided to help her, seeing Briana had bags under her eyes and still looked tired.

 

“Jet lag?”

 

“I think so, yes.”

 

Brianna told Chris how lovely the Japanese and American fans were. She promised to show him all the little gifts she had received and tell him all about the tea ritual they had back in Japan. As she told Chris some highlights of the tours, the lawyer leaned against the door frame, listening intently to her tales about the night Roger was so possessed behind his drums he pushed the entire kit as soon as they finished playing. Brianna also told him about the time Freddie cheated when they played Scrabble, when Deacy got so drunk after a show that he almost got lost in Pittsburgh.

 

“It was crazy, really. How about you?”

 

Chris shook his head. There was a loving smile on his lips. “Not much. We’re working a lot at the office. “

 

“That’s great, love.”

 

“Yeah,” he nodded. “also visited your parents. You should definitely go and take a look at the map Dad’s got,” Chris said excitedly. “We followed the two tours. Got everything marked.”

 

Brianna smiled at Chris calling her father ‘Dad’. She knew her father had insisted when she introduced Chris to him and her mum. And now she loved Chris more and more for visiting her parents, making himself sure they were doing well, and bonding with them.

 

As Chris told Bri about the progress he and his partners at the office had been doing and how much the firm had grown during the last weeks and months, she took her time to observe him. To observe the man who had become her husband just a couple of months ago. There was that smile and those kind eyes Brianna fell in love with the first time they met. As well as his hair, and those little blonde curls he had near his temples. Brianna never planned to marry anyone. Not even when she was deeply in love with Tim. But she had always felt complete with Chris. He and his world were completely different to her and hers. He was a lawyer, knew one or two things about music, and had never been to a rock concert. 

 

So it was a still a mystery to Brianna what had made him fall in love with her.

 

“I missed you.” Chris whispered against her ear, as he placed himself behind her, and circled her waist with his long arms. “I missed you, Bri.”

 

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath as she felt his lips against her neck. Screw dinner. They could eat later. She wasn’t even hungry. “I missed you so much, Chris.”

 

Brianna turned to face him and soon felt Chris’ arms taking her and placing her on the counter. His strong hands soon traveled along her thighs to her core, already wet. “I’m not hungry, are you?”

 

“Not really.”

 

And with that, Chris took his wife to their room.

 

It was a blessing to be able to stay home, in bed till noon, doing nothing. The day after she arrived, Chris took two days off work. The first day, they only stayed home. Brianna said she had really missed their bed and his warm body next to her. True to what she had told Roger, they didn't leave their bed so soon. Both Chris and Brianna had missed each other so much it was hard for both to leave each other's side. 

 

The following day they walked around the city. Chris took Brianna for lunch to a lovely place. They visited some music stores and Chris watched Brianna's eyes lit up with pride every time they found Queen's LP. Brianna kissed Chris when he told her he was sure that, in the years to come, more and more of their records would be there for people to buy. 

 

"You're going to give so many autographs! People are going to know who you are very soon, I can feel it!"

 

…

 

Roger was parking his car when his eyes found Brianna standing just across him, some feet away, with Chris leaning against his car. His hands were on her hips when the guitarist kissed him.

 

“Morning, lovebirds.”

 

“Hey Rog,” Brianna pulled away from Chris and went to hug her friend.

 

Chris extended his hand to shake it with the drummer’s. “How are you doing?”

 

“Not as good as you.” He asked, turning to Brianna. “How was the honeymoon, love?”

 

“Brilliant.”

 

“Great.”

 

“Sure you don’t want me to pick you up, sweetheart?”

 

Brianna nodded. “Yeah, Rog here can give me a lift. Have a nice day!”

 

“You too. Bye, Rog.”

 

“See you, mate.”

 

As soon as Chris was gone with his car, Roger took her hand and gave it a soft squeeze. “How’s Mrs Mullen?”

 

“Never been happier in my life.”

 

Roger smiled. “I’ve missed you, Bri.”

 

“I’ve missed you too, Rog.” She planted a kiss on his cheek. “What’ve you been up to?”

 

“Ah, you know me. Got myself a girlfriend.”

 

“A girlfriend?” Brianna mocked a surprised look. “As in a real girlfriend?”

 

“Shut up.” He took her hand again and both made their way into the building. “Her name’s Dominique. The most beautiful woman l I’ve ever met.”

 

As both were taken to Ray Foster’s office, Brianna let go of his hand. “And I thought _I_ was the most beautiful woman in your life.”

 

“You’re married.”

 

Inside the office, they were greeted by Ray Foster, the EMI top executive, Jim Beach, the band’s lawyer, John Reid and his shade, Paul Prenter. They shook hands, smiled and soon both sat on the couch placed across Foster’s desk. Deacy arrived some minutes later, sporting an amazing black leather jacket and matching shoes.

 

There was a huge grin on John’s face. A grin they had never seen, or if they had, it was only caused by Ronnie, the way they all affectionately called Veronica, Deacy’s girlfriend. Ronnie was loved by everyone in the band. She was really supportive of the band, had cooked for them when times were difficult and was always there to tell them how wonderful they’d played.

 

“Why so happy, Deacs?”

 

“Ronnie’s pregnant.”

 

There was a round of hugs and well wishes. Deacy told Roger and Brianna Veronica was doing well and that apparently the baby was very healthy. “We’re marrying next week. Before we start working on the new album.”

 

“That’s good, Deacy. I’m very happy for you.”

 

Deacy thanked Brianna and then turned to Roger. “So, Rog. I heard Freddie proposed to Mary.”

 

The drummer shrugged. “So?”

 

“Will we ever meet a future Mrs Taylor?”

 

“Probably. If you behave.”

 

“I’d like to meet Dominique,” Brianna said, resting a hand on Roger’s thigh. Soon, the drummer’s hand moved to the back of the couch, and finally rested on her shoulder. “maybe we can have a double date. You, me,Chris  and Dom.”

 

Roger nodded. The idea was actually… nice. He had to admit he really fancied Dominique enough to stay away from girls every time they went to a bar. He barely got drunk these days, and spent more and more weekends at her place than hanging out with friends and looking for a bird to take back to his flat.

 

“Yeah, maybe,” he replied and then grinned at her. “I’d really like that, Bri.”

 

And finally Freddie arrived, and so their negotiations for their next album began.

 

...

 

Once details about the new record were settled, Ray foster suggested they kept Brianna’s marital status a secret to their fans.

 

“Why?” Asked Brianna, clearly pissed.

 

“It’s merely a marketing move,” John Reid explained as soon as he noticed Roger, Deacy, Freddie and Brianna’s piercing gaze on Ray. “just to attract new male fans.”

 

“And females too,” added Prenter.

 

“Our fans follow our music, not us.” Brianna snapped.

 

“Having a woman in an all men rock band is already an excellent move.” Ray commented, licking his lips, his eyes on Brianna’s crossed legs across him. “We can’t afford losing your unique… appeal.”

 

“He’s right.” Freddie added, earning himself a deadly glare coming from Brianna. “But we’re not an all men band. We’re _Queen_.”

 

“Why don’t you think about it while you record, huh?” Reid said with an apologetic smile.

 

…

 

Two weeks later they were all tightly pressed in a car, being driven by Paul Prenter, across the long roads to Rockfield Farm, in Wales.

 

It was a long journey, and half an hour after it started, Brianna was already rolling her eyes and wishing they could have stayed in London. But no, they had to go to Wales, to record in a farm turned studios, because Prenter convinced Freddie they had to ‘get away from all distractions’. Brianna didn’t like Prenter and Roger shared the feeling, saying the man was ‘annoyingly intrusive’ for giving his own opinions about the band when no one had asked him to.

 

Paul was telling Freddie, who was sitting next to him on the passenger seat, about his days as DJ in some clubs in Dublin when Brianna started feeling sick. “Pull over!”

 

“What?”

 

“Pull over!”

 

Paul did as he was asked quickly, and soon Brianna jumped out the car and threw up on the side of the road.

 

“You okay, Bri?”

 

“Yeah,” she said, taking deep breaths softly. “Just the car journey, I think. Must be something I ate.”

 

“Ready to go, May?” Prenter asked. He hadn’t even bothered to get out the car and check whether she was okay or not.

 

“The prick…” Roger whispered and then turned to him. “Hey! Don’t you see she’s not feeling well?”

 

“What’s wrong, dear?” Freddie asked, walking to stand next to her. “Maybe we should go back to London. Record there.”

 

Brianna shook her head emphatically, making her long curls, which were now almost reaching half her back, bounce with the sudden movement. “No, it’s okay. It’s just… probably something I ate.”

 

The journey continued for three more hours. They stopped every thirty minutes so Brianna could breathe and throw up if she felt sick again. She said she was doing well, but Freddie insisted. Deacy was fast asleep, resting his head on Roger’s shoulder when they finally made it.

 

Roger eyed the place and regretted not convincing Freddie of recording in London and not in a bloody farm, in the middle of nowhere in Wales.

 

“This is not the Ritz, not even close!” Paul said as he climbed the stairs with Freddie’s bags. Roger and Deacy took theirs and Brianna's and followed him closely, taking in the house they were going to live in for some time. It was big… but old.

 

“John, you in there,” Paul started distributing the rooms. “Freddie, yours there… the biggest room,” he smiled to the singer and then turned to the drummer. “And you Roger, here.”

 

“And Bri?”

 

Paul’s face changed. “She goes downstairs.”

 

Something told the drummer he had to accompany his friend downstairs.

 

“This is all yours, Brianna. Smaller rooms don’t get as near as cold.”

 

Roger knew he was punching Paul Fucking Prenter (if not now, in the near future) and John Reid, Ray Foster and EMI could go and fuck themselves.

 

“Are you joking? This is a bloody basement!”

 

Brianna tried to take Roger by the arm, but the drummer was stronger than her, so he almost pushed her to get to Prenter’s neck. “Rog!”

 

“There are no more rooms left -”

 

“Give her your own room, you shit!” Roger’s shouts got to the first floor. Soon Freddie and Deacy were on the stairs. They watched Brianna standing between the two men, not knowing how to stop Roger from killing Paul.

 

Deacy joined Brianna and successfully pushed Roger back. “She can take my room, Roger. Now please calm down.”

 

“No, Deacs. She’s taking Prenter’s room -”

 

“Mine’s next to yours,” Deacy said, incredibly softly, his voice soothing. “You promised Chris you'd look after her, didn’t you?”

 

The drummer went silent. Roger finally took Brianna’s luggage and silently made his way upstairs, Brianna following closely behind. Prenter was nowhere to be seen when Freddie helped Deacy with his bags.

 

“Deacy -”

 

“It’s okay, Bri.”

 

Brianna wished she could have thanked him properly, but John said he had to ring Ronnie to see how she was doing and then unpack their instruments.

 

...

 

“I fucking hate Prenter. I swear that I’m so talking to Reid when we go back. I’m gonna get him fucking fired.” Roger said, stepping into Brianna’s room, not before knocking first. “Giving you a basement to sleep in? Prick. Anyway, what’s your bed like, huh, love?” Roger asked, sitting next to her on her big bed. “It makes fucking noises!”

 

“It’s not that bad, really.”

 

He smirked. “Bad if we want to use it.” And then winked.

 

“I’m not really in the mood, Rog.”

 

The drummer frowned as he watched her unpacking her clothes and filling in the little wardrobe in the room. “What’s wrong?”

 

“Just feeling a bit off, that’s all.”

 

“Is it because of what happened with Prenter?”

 

Brianna said nothing for a moment. “No. It’s just… I’m a bit tired. Must have been the long journey.”

 

“Huh… want me to make you some tea?”

 

“Please?” Brianna gave him a little smile.

 

“‘course, love.”

 

Downstairs, Roger found Prenter, who was checking their kitchen. The blonde ignored him completely and set two cups on a tray and a few cookies he found in the kitchen cabinets. Once water boiled and tea was ready, he took the tray upstairs, to Brianna’s room. But to his surprise, he found her fast asleep on her bed.

 

The drummer placed the cup on the nightstand next to her bed, and sat next to her.

 

He had seen her sleeping countless times, but now she looked different. Her cheeks looked fuller, and her lips had a deep red hue, as if she had applied lipstick on. Roger placed a hand on top of hers, which was on her stomach and gave it a soft squeeze.

 

There was something different around her, but he just couldn’t pin down what was it. Perhaps they were tired after the long journey to Rockfield. Maybe they needed to have some rest before jumping to the recording booth.

 

Roger looked at the open door and checked there was no one around. Then, he pressed a soft kiss to her cheek and covered her body with a comforter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So now I'm off! I promise I'll be back with TONS of drama. The slow burn is a bitch. But I'm in love with it.  
> Remember I'm a slut for your comments, kudos, bookmarks, Roger Taylor, Ben hardy and Gwilym Lee. He's really daddy material, don't you think? Blame BoRhap...


	10. Different

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roger knew he was supposed to write songs for the album, not keep track of Brianna's rare illness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What am I doing here? Yes, I'm on holidays, but it's pouring outside, we can't leave and so we're locked inside our room in a nice hotel. So I was bored, and this chapter was practically screaming to be published (sort of). Forgive my mistakes, this chapter was written on my phone :( 
> 
> Remember I said I'm not covering the whole of Brian and Chrissy's marriage. There will be a twist. Trust me. 
> 
> Please don't share this fic with the people involved in it, okay? Thanks.

It was nearly dark when Brianna finally opened her eyes. She slowly sat on the bed, frowning at the awful noises it made. She smiled when she remembered Roger’s comment. He was right, of course he was. If someone ever wanted to have sex on that noisy bed, they would surely wake up the people living in the nearest village, and that was miles away from Rockfield Farm. 

 

Brianna rubbed her eyes as she took in the scene before her. The room was nice, big, spacious, but the décor was definitely old fashioned. Yes, she wasn’t home in that lovely flat she shared with her husband but living in a farm for only God knew how long, in the middle of nowhere, miles and miles away from London, in Wales. 

 

The strange smell of food coming from somewhere in the house made her leave the bed and head to the little bathroom. Brianna splashed some water on her face before looking at herself on the mirror. She noticed her cheeks were too pink, as if she had run a marathon. She knew it was probably because of the heavy comforter. The night was slightly warm, so she decided to change into a pair of shorts and a top with thin straps before heading downstairs.

 

But as soon as she opened the door, she met Roger, whose hand was right about to knock on her door. “Evening, love.”

 

“Hey, Rog.”

 

“Feeling better?” he asked her, his eyes on her face. He soon noticed she was blushing.

 

Brianna curled her lips upwards into a little smile. “Yeah. Just still tired.”

 

“Dinner’s ready.”

 

“I’m starving.”

 

Placing a hand on the small of her back, they made their way downstairs, where Brianna was greeted by John and Freddie, who were setting the table.

 

“Good evening, Sleeping Beauty,” Freddie was the first to greet her with a wide smile. “feeling better?”

 

Brianna just nodded. “Car sickness I guess.”

 

“Do you think you can manage some supper?” John asked, as he started serving the food. “I prepared your favourite.”

 

Ah, Brianna remembered why she loved Deacy so much. “Yeah, yeah I think so. Thank you, John.”

 

“I helped peeling the potatoes,” Roger cheekily added, as he sat across Brianna. “Not gonna tell your favourite man ‘thank you’?” 

 

Brianna rolled her eyes. “You’re not my favourite man.”

 

“Ouch.”

 

“Stop flirting, you two. Or get a room.”

 

During dinner Freddie suggested they took some time to write before jumping to the recording booth. They were all surprised when John said he was already working on something. The bassist even asked Freddie to take a look at it once it was finished. 

 

Then, the conversation shifted towards Paul Prenter. The man was nowhere to be seen and Roger was glad about that. He could not tolerate living under the same room as the man any more and he was quite vocal about it. He knew Brianna shared the feeling, but Freddie and John did not. For one reason or another, Freddie seemed to like Paul, so he defended him every time Roger slammed the man. 

 

“He’s a fucking asshole.”

 

“An asshole who does his job.”

 

“You call giving Brianna a basement ‘doing his job’?” Roger snorted. “And this place?”

 

John was the one now to defend Prenter. “EMI sent us here, not him.”

 

“And he locked his car in the barn. We’re practically his prisoners.”

 

“Well, it’s not that bad, actually,” Brianna commented, food still in her mouth. 

 

Roger snorted. “Are you gonna defend ‘im too?”

 

“I’m just saying that not having distractions is a good thing. And Freddie can’t be late.”

 

They all laughed. She was right, Freddie had to agree. He was always late to everything and now that they would be living and recording in one same place, Freddie had no excuses to be late. 

 

As they joked, Roger noticed there was something different about his friend. There was something off about her. Roger observed during dinner how she smiled every now and then at something they said. It was a weak smile. She looked as if she had barely slept at all and ate a great amount of food. 

 

“Is there… anything sweet we could eat?”

 

“There must be,” Freddie ventured into the little kitchen this time and started rummaging through the cabinets. “Paul says there’s enough food for at least three months.”

 

“We’re not staying here for three bloody months,” Roger almost growled.  “It can’t take us that long.”

 

Brianna patted John’s arm. “We got to get started as soon as possible. We can’t keep Deacy away from Ronnie for so long. Not now that she’s pregnant.”

 

“Well, we could go back to London every now and then,” Roger suggested. “Or ask them to come here for a weekend.”

 

“I’m definitely not going to ask Veronica to come here to a bloody farm.”

 

Freddie came back with a bag of biscuits. “Are these all right, darling?”

 

“Perfect. Thanks, Fred.”

 

Deacy and Freddie were soon out for a smoke when Roger’s eyes fell again on Brianna. She was leaning on her chair once half the bag of biscuits was devoured. She looked pleased, but sleepy again.

 

“I shouldn’t have eaten those cookies.”

 

“Want some herbal tea? May be good for your stomach.”

 

Brianna shook her head emphatically. “I… I think I’m going to sleep.”

 

“Hey, love, aren’t you going to give Daddy Rog a kiss before going to bed?” He winked and patted his cheek, actually expecting a kiss. “Or you want Daddy Rog to tuck you in? Tell you a tale before going to bed?”

 

She laughed and leaned closer to him, placing an elbow on his shoulder. “Is it some sort of kink of yours? ‘Daddy Rog’? Really?”

 

Roger chuckled. “Dom calls me daddy. It’s kind of a turn on, I guess.”

 

“I’m not calling you ‘daddy’, Rog.” She stood up to leave.

 

“Not now?”

 

“Not ever.”

 

“And when we have sex?” 

 

Brianna pressed a kiss to the top of his head and rubbed his locks affectionately. “In your dreams, Taylor.”

 

Roger was left alone at the table. He lit himself a cigarette and soon many dreams involving his friend and guitarist came back to his mind. He soon felt himself hardening, so as soon as he finished smoking, he made his way to his room, and under the cold water of his shower. 

 

…

 

During their first week they took to lock themselves in their own rooms for most of the day to write their own songs. Even Deacy, who so far had never contributed to songwriting, said he was working on something. Freddie would lock himself in a room with a piano, and sometimes leave with red eyes. None of them really said anything about the things they were writing, so no one asked. 

 

It was an unspoken rule that they would always share breakfast, lunch, and dinner together. They all helped to cook and clean the kitchen, even those who didn’t know much about boiling water or cooking bacon. They successfully managed, as well as living under the same roof with Paul. Roger and Brianna interacted little and no more than necessary with him. Freddie sometimes asked him to join him in the room with his piano so Prenter could give some feedback. 

 

They were too absorbed into their own song writing process that no one noticed Brianna’s changes.

 

No one but certain drummer who happened to sleep next door. Some days she’d be all talkative, suggest they took a walk around the farm, feed the animals, do things to free themselves from that old house, search for inspiration on nature. Some other days she’d hardly leave her room. Some others she’d eat with the rest of the band, but snap as soon as Roger placed a hand on her knee or called her ‘love’. 

 

“Oh, come on, love,” Roger playfully placed an arm around her thin shoulders. “it could be fun!” Roger had suggested they took Paul’s car keys and drove around, just to get away from the farm for a while and piss off Paul. But Brianna was taking none of it. 

 

She pulled his arm away with more force than necessary. “You’re so childish.” She took her cup of tea and started heading upstairs to her room.

 

Brianna also slept a lot. Sometimes she joined them for breakfast very early in the morning, then she’d sit on the couch and try some writing only to doze off for hours until it was lunchtime. Sometimes between lunch and dinner she’d also sleep profoundly and they could all play their instruments and still she wouldn’t wake up. There were some afternoons in which they would get together and start jamming for the sake of it, Brianna would be sleeping, and no one really had the heart to wake her up.

 

They all thought it was because she was probably staying up during the night and sleeping throughout the day. 

 

Deacy sat across Roger and handed him a cup of tea. They were jamming this time, trying to work out something Freddie had in mind, no lyrics yet, but he needed Brianna to play something for him. The bassist noticed Roger’s eyes were on something behind him. When  he turned, he found Brianna sitting on a stool near the recording booth, tuning her guitar with her sixpence between her teeth. 

 

“Have you noticed?” Roger asked, as soon as he felt Deacy’s inquisitive eyes on him.

 

“Notice what?”

 

“Her breasts. They look bigger.”

 

Deacy spilled his tea and start coughing. This caught Brianna’s and Freddie’s attention, who turned to them. “You okay, John?” 

 

John soon felt Roger kicking him under the table. “Yeah.” 

 

“Have you noticed?” Roger asked again, this time whispering.

 

“For fuck’s sake, Rog. I don’t know. I don’t go around looking at her tits.”

 

“She just… she looks different.”

 

“Are you genuinely worried or just horny?” Deacy shook his head. “She’s our friend.”

 

Roger couldn’t be hurt by this comment. He was a womaniser through and through. Always been, always will be. So he was okay with his reputation and with what his bandmates could think of him. Yes,it was all right for Deacy to think he could be either worried or just horny, because he was.

 

He was worried because Brianna wasn’t being herself lately and it seemed no one noticed. 

 

And he was horny because he missed Dominique and touching himself every morning wasn’t fun.

 

But he didn’t ‘go around looking at her tits’ as Deacy had put it. It wasn’t his fault he was horny as hell, Brianna was wearing a large shirt and no bra underneath. He was a man and she was a woman so he really tried not to stare at her backside every time she put on tight jeans or shirts without a bra. 

 

“I’m a man. Can’t help it if she goes around the house wearing those jeans and shirts with no bra!”

 

“I’m a man too and I… you know what? Forget it. And I thought you were past that, Rog.”

 

“Past what?” 

 

“I’ll go and call Ronnie, see how’s she’s doing with the baby.”

 

Roger watched Freddie and Brianna’s exchange with interest. The lead singer hummed a bit, trying to explain Brianna what he wanted for his song. He was not, for some reason, giving away the sheet with lyrics, partly because he said it wasn’t finished, and partly because he wanted each of them to create something special for it, something that he was explaining each soon.

 

Sitting behind his drums, Roger took the chance to start with his song, the one that had taken him some time to write, and was special for him. He only played the drums and sang a different version of the one he had written. 

 

“Sounds… interesting. About your car?” He nodded. “Have you got the lyrics?”

 

“Not yet.” He lied. 

 

Brianna nodded and tried a few sounds. “I think it’s… good. You should sing it.”

 

“Probably.”

 

“Anyway, I think we can call it a day.” Brianna yawned and carefully placed her Red Special on the case. 

 

Roger frowned. “You okay?”

 

“Just a bit dizzy, that’s all. Don’t think I can’t keep food down either.”

 

“We should call a doctor,” Freddie suggested, his eyes on the guitarist. 

 

“Must be something you ate, May,” Paul said from his place next to Freddie’s piano. “or perhaps the countryside air is affecting you.”

 

Brianna took Roger’s hand before he could start verbally fighting Paul. 

 

“Probably, Paul. Maybe I need some rest.” 

 

It was late when Roger finally went to bed. It was awfully quiet, too dark outside to go out for a smoke. Too warm too, to lay down. He was still too awake when he heard noises coming from the room next door, Brianna’s. 

 

He was about to go, knock on her door, ask her if she was okay, tell her maybe he could go through the box with pills and medicines they had to see if he could find something. He had a degree. He was a biologist. And he was proud of himself. He wasn’t what could be called ‘brilliant’, but he passed all his finals, didn’t he?

 

And as a biologist, he knew some symptoms and probably Brianna was suffering from a stomach flu.

 

But something inside his chest hurt the moment he realised Brianna was actually pregnant.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I kind of broke Roger's heart. My poor blondie.  
> Here I'm a slut for your comments, kudos, bookmarks, Roger Taylor, Ben Hardy and now Gwilym Lee. That boi is definitely daddy material. Btw, have you noticed the 'daddy' reference? 
> 
> See you in a couple of days!


	11. Convulsing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Brianna said the song wasn't strong enough, she was just taking the piss. But the comment only made Roger fly off the handle and do something he will regret for the rest of his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I'm back from my holidays! This time with a short chapter. Hope you like it! Remember not to share this with any of the people involved in this fic, thanks.

“I put my heart and soul into this song!”

 

Deacy was the first to try to make their drummer understand the song wasn’t a bad one. It was amazing. The way it was written was impeccable. The morning they listened to Roger singing was glorious. While hitting the cymbals, his toms, Roger closed his eyes, forgetting all about the lyrics.

 

Yes, the music was good.

 

But the lyrics… “No one’s discussing that…”

 

“You don’t like it because you want that song for Ronnie on the album!”

 

Deacy kept on smiling. “It’s not that, Roger.”

 

“Then what is it?”

 

“‘I’m in love with my car’?” Brianna asked, leaning forward on their kitchen table. “Maybe’s not strong enough?”

 

“What does it even mean ‘not strong enough’?

 

“I heard drama and smelled bacon, so here I am.” Freddie practically waltzed into their kitchen and sat next to Deacy on a stool. “What did I miss?”

 

“Discussing Roger’s car song.”

 

What seemed to be another ‘Roger’s just flying off the handle’ episode, turned into something everyone should have paid more attention to. Because there was more than just discussing a song about Roger loving his car.

 

What Freddie and John were witnessing was the beginning of an explosion, a turning point in their lives. It was Roger and Brianna about to break their bond. It was about Roger probably confirming his suspicions, Brianna having her heart broken again, and an incident that was forever going to haunt them for the rest of their lives. 

 

“How’s your new song going then?” Roger took the piece of paper with Brianna’s handwriting. “‘You call me sweet, like I’m so kind of cheese’. Wow! Is that how Chris calls you?”

 

Brianna, in exchange, took Roger’s sheet. “‘When my hands on your grease gun’?”

 

“It’s a metaphor, Brianna!”

 

“Yeah, very subtle.”

 

Deacy laughed again. “It’s just a bit weird, Roger. What exactly are you doing with that car?”

 

Freddie took a cup and made his way back to the house, where he had his piano. He knew he was going to miss Roger flying off the handle - and God he _loved_ drama.

 

But something deep inside his chest was dragging him back to the piano. During those moments, where he stood between the ‘recording farm’ as they called the barn where the recording booth and equipment was, and the house, he would stay there and look up to the skies, let his eyes take in the little sunshine they had those days, because they’d been there for two weeks, almost three, and it was cloudy most of the days.

 

Had Freddie known there were going to be broken dishes, cups, and bacon being thrown, he wouldn’t have left the kitchen. He would have jumped behind the improvised table, grab Roger by the shoulders and shake him a bit.

 

Because that day things were bound to happen. One of the most popular songs in history was going to be written, and Roger was making a mistake that would haunt him for the years to come.

 

...

 

“You know why you’re angry, Rog?”

 

He bit his lip in anticipation. There was anger running through his veins. He felt he could punch anyone any time soon, kick furniture, and even push his drum kit for all he cared.

 

“Why?” He practically shouted.

 

Brianna’s expression softened. She was taking the piss, having said before sitting down for breakfast that the music was good, but maybe Roger should reconsider his choice, since it was actually strange the way he put into words the feelings behind the song. She had always known how much Roger loved cars. She never knew, but she really thought the drummer cried the moment Fred suggested they should sell his van to have enough money for an album.

 

The song was good. Roger sang it beautifully and played the drums with passion. They were all amazed by his ability to sing, play the drums, and move his head to the rhythm.

 

She was merely suggesting they changed the lyrics a bit. Taking the piss. Trying to make him laugh because for some reason she didn’t know _yet_ , Roger was distant, barely talking to her, barely flirting with her, barely looking at her.

 

So when Brianna spoke again, Roger forgot it was her friend who was taking the piss.

 

“Because you know your song is not strong enough.”

 

And then it happened.

 

It happened in just seconds. Freddie was still crossing the small field between the house and the recording barn. John was sipping his coffee. Brianna was leaning forwards, curling her lips slightly upwards, ready to tell Roger it was a joke, that the song was good, but she still thought it needed some editing.

 

“So, it’s not strong enough…” He took her tray with her food and slammed it against a wall. “Is this strong enough for you now? Huh?”

 

John’s eyes were as wide as saucers. He immediately turned to Roger who was as possessed as he usually was when they performed.

 

Brianna was now leaning back. Her hands, both long and lean, were trying to cover her head and face. No one saw the fear in her eyes the moment she heard Roger taking Deacy’s food and slamming it against another wall, this time the one behind Brianna.

 

“How about this? Strong enough now? Well I’m sorry _Mrs Mullen_ if my songs are not strong enough for you! At least I don’t go around trying to put stupid guitar solos in every song we write! ‘You call me sweet like I’m so kind of cheese’? Oh, I get it now. That’s how your stupid husband calls you? Sweet like cheese?”

 

When there was only silence, Brianna lowered her hands and placed them on her lap, close to her stomach. She watched him for a second or two before Roger slammed a hand against the table, making her flinch with fear.

 

“Why don’t you tell them you’re fucking pregnant, huh?” Roger shouted at her.

 

Deacy turned to Brianna, surprised. “What?”

 

“Rog… I-I-I’m not…” Suddenly, she couldn’t speak.

 

She felt herself convulsing. She was trying to speak, but no word left her mouth. She felt as if her throat was useless no matter how hard she tried. “Rog…”

 

“Fuck you, Brianna! You and your stupid song and your baby.”

 

It was Deacy who almost put himself between Brianna and Roger to stop the drummer from shouting at their guitarist. “Rog, stop!”

 

Brianna’s head was down. But a little sob escaped her lips.

 

And suddenly, Roger felt his heart sinking the moment Brianna finally looked at him with tears in her eyes.

 

“Bri -”

 

When she ran upstairs and locked herself in her room, Deacy shoved Roger against their fridge and left. Not before slamming the door shut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things will be explored, explained and resolved soon. I hope to update the second part soon (tomorrow or at least in a few days) but I'm making no promises since I'm changing my internet provider and I might not have service for a couple of days.
> 
> Here I'm a slut for your comments, kudos, bookmarks, the BoRhap boys, and especially Gwilym. What a daddy.


	12. Lost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brianna has Paul Prenter's keys. She asks Roger to drive her to the nearest village. 
> 
> "Bri?"
> 
> "I had a miscarriage."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ALERT: mentions of a miscarriage. If it may trigger something, or if it isn't your cup of tea, don't read this. Or skip the part. 
> 
> Again, don't share this with any of the people involved in this fic, thanks.

It wasn’t until noon when Freddie went back to the house and found Roger picking up the broken plates, the food, and cleaning the kitchen. The lead singer looked around but could not find Brianna or John. The house was silent but for the Roger, who kept his eyes on the task at hand.

 

“Where’s everyone?”

 

Roger said nothing.

 

“Rog?”

 

“I’m practising on the electronic piano,” Deacy announced, carrying his bass and heading to the door. “I may need you to check on a few changes I’ve made on the song.”

 

Freddie nodded, noticing Deacy had not spared Roger a glance. But there was something else behind Deacy’s eyes, Freddie could tell. Even after years playing with them, sharing a house, a room, touring, and now living far from the city, Deacy was still the shy man who barely spoke a word during rehearsals.

 

The things Deacy didn’t say with his mouth, he did say with his eyes. They were slightly reddish, as if he had been crying.

 

“Brianna asked me to apologise to you on her behalf, but she’s not feeling well.”

 

“What happened?”

 

“Ask him.”

 

And with that, Deacy left with his bass.

 

Paul Prenter sneaked through the door and announced their producer RT Baker was on his way and should be arriving soon. The man stood there, waiting for Freddie to join him and Deacy on the recording barn. His eyes scanned the scene and soon put two and two together.

 

“Paul, would you give us a moment, please?” Freddie said, not taking his eyes off Roger, and taking a seat across him. “I’ll be there with you and John soon, darling.”

 

As soon as Prenter was gone, and Freddie was sure Paul was far from the kitchen, he lit a cigarette and offered one to the drummer. Roger silently accepted one and took a long drag.

 

“What happened, darling?”

 

How could you tell the truth? How could you tell Freddie you forgot it was Brianna who you were shouting at and saying such mean things? How could you tell Freddie you started throwing things away and making your friend cry?

 

“I… It’s not an excuse, but I forgot she’s a woman -”

 

“She’s not _any woman_. She’s Brianna,” Freddie said calmly, smoking another cigarette. Anyone could tell Freddie didn’t seem to care much about Roger’s predicament. But there was anger behind his dark eyes and his voice. “She was abused, Roger.”

 

Roger let out a long sigh and cursed himself. Fuck you, Roger Meddows Taylor.

 

“You weren’t angry because of what she said about your song.”  Freddie waited, but Roger gave him no indication whether what he had just said was true or not. “You were upset because she’s pregnant.”

 

“What?”

 

“Why does it upset you?”

 

Roger frowned. “What… I’m not upset because she’s pregnant.”

 

“We’ve said worst things about your songs. Why acting like this now?” Freddie raised an eyebrow. “Is it because we’ll have to wait for her… or because she’s pregnant with Chris’ baby?”

 

“Are you joking?”

 

“Then, why does it upset you?”

 

Roger said nothing because he didn’t know why it hurt him. The situation not only hurt him. It made him feel angry, sad.

 

“Why does it upset you?” Freddie repeated the question.

 

But Roger said nothing.

 

“Talk to her and apologise. And if she feels she can’t work with you again,” Freddie said as he stood up and walked to the door. “you’ll have to leave the band.”

 

…

 

Roger stood outside Brianna’s room. He knew the door was locked, so he knocked once and waited. “Bri, it’s me.”

 

Nothing.

 

“I… I’m sorry.”

 

Nothing.

 

“Please, Bri.”

 

Nothing.

 

“Please forgive me.”

 

Nothing.

 

The drummer went to his room. He stayed there for long hours smoking, trying to hear any sounds coming from the room next to his. He heard nothing, and assumed Brianna was surely sleeping. The bed really made awful sounds that could be heard even when from downstairs.

 

He had sat next to her on her bed and it made strange noises. He said they could never have sex on that bed, making Brianna smile a little.

 

Not even remembering the comment made him smile, not even a bit.

 

...

 

As soon as Roger heard Freddie opening and closing the door of his room, Roger took his warmest jacket and went downstairs. There was some food left, he knew it was for Brianna and not him, so he quietly went outside and decided to walk around the farm.

 

Freddie’s words wouldn’t leave his mind. He knew Brianna was not accepting his apologies. He had behaved like the dick he was, shouting at her those horrible things.

 

A tear escaped his eyes the moment he realised he behaved like Tim. It broke him to know he had hurt his friend, when he had promised no one was ever going to hurt her again.

 

He broke his own promise.

 

It wasn’t knowing that probably the following day he was going to be shipped back to London and told he was fired from the band what made Roger cry, but knowing he would never see her again.

 

As he sat on the cold grass, Roger felt as if a film was playing in front of him. All those moments he had shared with Brianna were right there, fresh as if he had lived them yesterday.

 

The drummer could recall the day he properly met her. There she was, with her guitar, waiting for him and Tim to arrive. Then, the day they composed ‘Doing All right’. Brianna later revealed to him, when Tim left the band and her, that she had written the song for him. For Tim.

 

He smiled a bit when he remembered the day he took a look at her teeth because she thought she had a cavity. She didn’t have one, Roger assured her her teeth were perfect, and she smiled and treated him to some beers late that day.

 

Roger knew he was going to miss her smiles, her laugh, the way she rolled her eyes every time he placed a hand on her thigh and called her ‘love’.

 

Things would have definitely been different had Roger –

 

“Psst!” Roger turned and saw Brianna behind a large bush. “Rog!”

 

“Bri! What –”

 

“Shhh!”

 

She gestured him to come closer. He did, and as soon as he was three feet away from her, she took his hand and led him to the barn where Paul kept his car locked away from them.

 

Roger’s eyes widened when he saw Brianna opening the lock of the wide door with Paul’s bunch of keys.

 

“Those are Paul’s… he keeps them inside his bloody pants. How did you -”

 

Brianna threw him the keys and opened the passenger door. Roger followed her and sat behind the wheel. He still didn’t know what she had in mind, until he looked into her eyes.

 

“Roger,” Brianna was white. The drummer noticed she had a thick blanket on her lap. “I need you to drive me to the nearest village now.”

 

There was… he had a bad feeling. He could feel his heart racing inside his chest. A little voice inside his head told him he had to react and drive because something wrong was going on.

 

It took them two seconds to take the roads. Roger drove as fast as he could and tried to remember how much time they were away from the nearest little village they had seen on their way to Rockfield.

 

Soon his eyes fell on Brianna’s shaking hands. “Bri?”

 

Her eyes were on the road. Roger could tell she had been crying, but she wasn’t anymore.  


“Bri?” Roger’s eyes left the road and focused on Brianna, who was sweating and gripping her seat tightly. They almost crashed against a car coming their opposite way. “Shit!”

 

Brianna took a deep breath. “I had a miscarriage. I need you to drive as fast as you can to the nearest village.”

 

“What?”

 

He felt his entire world falling apart. Roger went mute. His foot was heavy on the accelerator. He didn’t care if they did something to Paul Prenter’s fucking car. He didn’t care if there were policemen in the middle of fucking nowhere in Wales.

 

They drove in silence. It took Roger more than half an hour to get to the nearest village when he knew lived approximately less than fifty people. Brianna told him to drive into the place. Roger remembered they had stopped there on their way to Rockfield so Brianna could stretch her legs and throw up. Walking around, she had seen a small house with a sign outside.

 

Now they were there. Roger knocked the door several times until an old man, probably in his seventies opened the door. He was bald, wearing very thick and heavy glasses.

 

Brianna was the one who explained her condition. The man moved aside and let them in.

 

“I’m doctor Baughan. What are your names?”

 

“I’m Brianna,” she almost whispered. Suddenly, Brianna felt very thin, small, frail.

 

Roger helped Brianna sit on a chair across the doctor’s desk. “Roger.”

 

The old man nodded and asked Roger to wait outside the room where he was to ask Brianna some questions before checking on her. “Please, doctor, let him stay.”

 

Roger sat next to Brianna and took her hand with his. He frowned at Brianna’s cold hands.

 

“When did it happen?”

 

“Today. I… I wasn’t feeling well before breakfast. I...” Brianna bit her lip. “I fell asleep and when I woke up… when I woke up it was done.”

 

The doctor nodded. “Are you in pain now?”

 

“No.”

 

“How far along do you think you were?”

 

Brianna’s eyes were down. “Six, probably seven weeks.”

 

“Did you know about the pregnancy before the miscarriage?”

 

A nod.

 

“Did you bleed much?” A nod. “Did you expel it?”

 

“Y-Yes.”

 

“Are you bleeding now?”

 

“I don’t think so.”

 

“Okay. That’s... “ The drummer could tell the doctor, who probably had several years of experience was being careful on his choice of words. “You’ll be okay. I’ll give you medication and you’ll need to rest. Some bed rest and you’ll be okay, young lady.” He gave them a little smile. “Was it your first pregnancy?”

 

“Yes.”

 

The doctor nodded. “Were you working this morning? Doing some heavy work?”

 

“No.”

 

“Any… distressing situation, maybe?”

 

Roger’s heart sank.

 

“No.”

 

“It’s common among first pregnancies.” The doctor reassured both. The doctor assumed they were together, but suspected something had happened between the two young people sitting across his desk. “I advise you refrain from engaging in intercourse for a few days. Stay in bed for the weekend and take these,” he said as he handed Brianna some pills. “eat healthy food. And you’ll be all right. You’ll be expecting again very soon, don’t worry.”

 

They were silent on their way back to the farm. Roger felt his eyes clouding because of the tears.

 

It was Brianna who broke the silence. “Pull over.”

 

Roger pulled over on the side of the road. Brianna left the car and leaned against the closed door. As soon as Roger joined her, she pulled the heavy blanket around his thin shoulders, before taking hers and doing the same. As soon as both were warm, she leaned forward and rested her head against his chest. The drummer hugged her tightly and soon heard little sobs. His hands moved up and down her spine, as he pressed soft kisses to her head, to those wild curls that were long now.

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

“There’s nothing you should be sorry for, Rog.”

 

“For how long are you gonna forgive my shit?” He watched her frowning confusedly at him. “I made you… it was my fault.”

 

Brianna looked down at her hands, and then back to her friend. “If there’s anyone here to blame, that’s me. I knew I was pregnant and did nothing for this… for this baby.”

 

Roger cried for long seconds, feeling the cold Welsh wind and Brianna’s long hands now enveloping him, caressing his head, using her fingers to comb his forever impossible blonde locks, and whispering things to him.

 

“Roger, come here.”

 

They were standing almost eye level. Roger could feel her soft breath against his face. His baby blue eyes were on hers, and then on her lips. He knew that if he stood just a little bit on tip toes, he could kiss her, savour her lips. Finally make her his.

 

“Listen to me, Rog. It wasn’t your fault. I started feeling ill yesterday.” She whispered. Roger stared at her eyes and he felt lost in them. “If I had asked you to drive me here when it happened, the baby would be here. But I didn’t. So it isn’t your fault. It’s just… mine. So please, please don’t cry.”

 

“I’m sorry for all the things I said and did today.”

 

Brianna pressed a kiss to his cheek, and for some reason, it landed on the corner of his lips.

 

“I was taking the piss,” she said as she leaned against the car. “didn’t mean to hurt you.”

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

“Stop apologising, Rog.”

 

“What I did today… that’s not me, Bri.” He said, taking a step closer to her. “I’m not Tim.”

 

She took a deep breath, before taking his hand and kissing his knuckles. As she did so, her eyes never left his, and for a moment, Roger thought it was the most sensual thing he had ever experienced.

 

“No, you’re not.” She kissed his calloused knuckles as she looked at him. “I know you’ll never hurt me.”

 

“I wasn’t upset about the song.”

 

She frowned the moment Roger leaned too close to her, and with one hand, tilted her head upwards, so their mouths were close. “I… I was jealous.”

 

“Rog?”

 

Roger knew he could do two things: one, kiss Brianna and two, just play dumb. The former implied many things. It implied breaking whatever they had after the incident. She was married. He had a girl back home. She had been expecting.

 

It wasn’t fair for Brianna.

 

But Roger still didn’t know _yet_ why he wanted to kiss her so badly.

 

“I didn’t mean what I said.” He whispered, taking a step back. “I… I knew you were… pregnant. But I guess I was angry because you didn’t tell me.” Roger gave her a silly smile. “And we tell each other everything.”

 

Brianna smiled a bit. “I kind of… I kind of didn’t want to admit it. Anyway, how could you tell?”

 

“Well, I’m a biologist.”

 

“Not a doctor.”

 

“Not really, but I know the symptoms.” He said as he opened the door for her. “You were sick, dizzy, slept all day. And your tits.”

 

“What do you mean my tits?”

 

“Well,” Roger took the road again. “they looked bigger to me, love.”

 

She patted his arm and shook her head. “You’re unbelievable. Only _you_ ’d notice that.”

 

“Told Deacy. He said I should wank.”

 

“Probably.”

 

“Hmm.” Roger smiled. “So, where to now? London?”

 

“No,” her smile disappeared from her face. “Let’s go back to the farm.”

 

“I thought you wanted to see Chris.”

 

Brianna let out a sigh. “I won’t tell him. It’d break him.”

 

“He should know, Bri.”

 

“We’ll have more,” she gave his hand a little squeeze.

 

They drove in silence. He asked her every now and then if she was okay or if she wanted him to stop driving and pull over.

 

“Let’s keep driving.” Roger suggested with a grin. “Make fucking Paul angrier.”

 

Briana let out a loud laugh and Roger wished there was a way he could record that laugh, her smile, the way she took his free hand and gave it a squeeze.

 

“I’ve never been to Wales.”

 

“Neither have I.”

 

And so it was still dark when they drove around lands. They stopped only to watch the sunrise. Roger placed a hand on the small of her back and let her rest her head against his chest. They were tightly wrapped with their blankets when Brianna pressed a kiss to his cheek and said she loved him.

 

“You’re my best friend, Rog. Thank you.”

 

“We should go back. You need to rest.”

 

…

 

“We need to think of an excuse,” Roger said as soon as their eyes were on the farm. “Prenter’s waiting.”

 

There was Paul, wearing his pyjamas and a stupid checked robe. Brianna placed the pills the doctor had given her in the pockets of her jeans before leaving the car.

 

“Where d’you go?”

 

“Out.” Was Brianna’s first response. She got off the car and took the hand Roger was offering her. Both made their way into the house, Prenter practically running behind them.

 

“You can’t leave this place.”

 

Roger turned, with fire in his eyes. “You’re not our bloody mother.”

 

“No, I’m not, Taylor. But you’re under my responsibility. No one here moves a cup without me knowing. Now tell me. Where d’you go?”

 

“To fuck,” Brianna said, one foot on the stairs, her hand still glued to the drummer’s. “This house’s got bloody noisy beds and fucking thin walls!” Brianna shouted at Prenter. Freddie and John, who so far were having breakfast in the kitchen, had left their food and were now staring with wide eyes at the scene in front of them. “Don’t worry, we didn’t fuck in your car.”

 

Both Brianna and Roger ran up the stairs, leaving Paul, Freddie and Deacy looking at them in awe.

 

Paul took only to steps and watched Roger getting into his room with Brianna.

 

Had Brianna and Roger known this was one day going to be used against them and published on the press by no one else but Paul Fucking Prenter, they would have come up with a better excuse.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a special chapter for me since I lost a baby last year, just as Brianna. The hubby and I didn't know I was pregnant until I lost it. So the episode (the talk with the doctor) is pretty accurate. Did some research, though. 
> 
> I'm a little slut for your comments, kudos, bookmarks, the BoRhap boys and Gwilym. Probably because he just looks like the hubby <3


	13. You Do Dance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Freddie decides they must have celebrate they have finished recording "A Night at the Opera".  
> Brianna said she didn't dance, but she actually did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the slow burn is finally giving us a reward, a tiny one, after so much pinning. 
> 
> Remember not to share this with any of the people involved in this fic, thanks.

When John opened the door, he found Brianna was in bed. She was sitting, with her back against the headboard, holding a notepad and a pen. He gave her a little smile as he took in the scene. Her hair was messy, long, the tips nearly reaching her elbows.

 

She looked better now than a couple of weeks ago. Her cheeks were fuller, and she no longer had bags under her eyes. Her appetite returned, as well as her energy. Brianna now insisted they took walks around the farm and sometimes, if weather permitting, a little bit beyond. Walking after a long recording session was always welcomed by all of them. Brianna would link her arm with Roger’s as they led the way.

 

They only walked. But they were always followed by Paul on his car, who said they were ‘his responsibility’ and ‘could not afford’ to have one of them ‘tripping or hurting themselves’ on a silly accident.

 

At this point John started to suspect Paul’s insistence on being always with them, or locking himself and Freddie in the piano room, were not what he was hired to. Yes, Paul Reid said Paul was in charge of looking after them every day, but that did not mean staying when they were discussing their songs, recording, having meals, or going for walks.

 

“Hey, John. Ready to go home?” Brianna asked, putting her notes aside, now fully focused on the bassist.

 

“Yeah. Just came to say good bye.”

 

Brianna left her bed and walked until she was two steps away from him. She wrapped her long arms around his neck and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. “Have a safe trip. Send Ronnie our love.”

 

“You sure –”

 

“Go,” Brianna smiled again. “We only have to do record some more Galileos, that’s all.”

 

John laughed at her comment and nodded. “See you in London, then.”

 

“That’s right.”

 

They heard Paul’s car outside. He agreed to drive Deacy back to London (because Freddie had asked him to) so he could go back home to Veronica who was pregnant with their first child. When the Irish man said they hadn’t finished recording, Roger was the first to remember him Deacy had a pregnant wife waiting for him, and that John Reid had agreed to him leaving the farm as soon as his part was finished.

 

“Do you think you’ll survive the ride with him?”

 

“I’ll be fine.”

 

Freddie, Brianna and Roger were standing outside the house the moment John left with Paul.

 

“Behave, Taylor.” Said Paul with a devilish grin, knowing how much Roger hated to be scolded as if he were a child.

 

“The wanker.”

 

“Rog.” Brianna took his hand before he could throw stones to the car. “Calm down.”

 

As Paul got into the car and waved them a goodbye, Roger clenched his fists. “I called Reid yesterday. He’s gonna be fired. He can go back to those dirty clubs in Dublin for all I care.”

 

“You did what?”

 

Roger shrugged. “He planned to give you a fucking basement to sleep in, remember? And kept us locked here as if we were his bloody prisoners.”

 

“He was a prick, yes. But that’s… you left him without a job, Rog.”

 

“So what? He had it coming.”

 

“We should have a party.” Freddie, who had listened to the exchange but had been suspiciously quiet, declared with a wide grin. “Celebrate we are almost done. Let’s get our fancy dresses out, girls.”

 

Brianna rolled her eyes. “I don’t have a dress.”

 

“So that’s why I packed one for you, darling,” Freddie almost sang, as he waltzed to the stairs and turned dramatically to them. “Now, if you will excuse me, I’m going upstairs for my bubble bath. You should have one yourselves.”

 

“My bathtub’s big enough,” Roger grinned. “What d’you say, love?”

 

“In your dreams, Roger.”

 

“We do different things in my dreams.”

 

Freddie turned as soon as he was about to open his door. “Dress is on your bed. Wear it.”

 

“No, Fred. I’m not wearing it!”

 

“You haven’t even seen it!”

 

“I don’t wear dresses.”

 

“Too bad I took all your clothes.”

 

“What? When?”

 

“See you in two hours!”

 

And with that, Freddie locked his door, leaving a very confused Brianna and a very excited Roger.

 

The drummer knew they had a generous amount of alcohol waiting for them tonight, plus some delicious leftovers from lunch and no Paul Prenter around. The whole situation was practically too good to be true.

 

Paul Prenter’s presence was enough for Roger to find it difficult to work. The drummer could still not pin down the reason why all of a sudden Paul turned from the man they liked having around, being always efficient, to their nosy watcher.

 

“I’m not wearing this.” Brianna declared, taking the dress with her and placing it inside a drawer.

 

Roger, who took advantage of her open door, followed her into her room and threw himself on her bed, making awful noises. “Let me see it.”

 

“No.”

 

“Why ever not?”

 

“It’s… I’m not wearing it.”

 

“Try it on,” Roger suggested, crossing his arms behind his head. “C’mon, show daddy Rog how good you look in a dress.”

 

Brianna threw him a pillow. “Make yourself at home.” She said sarcastically as she turned to close the door of her room.

 

“Closing the door… it seems I’m getting lucky now, huh?”

 

“Rog… I think we should be more careful around Paul.”

 

He frowned his eyes as she sat across him on her bed. He mimicked her movements before speaking again. “What d’you mean?”

 

She shrugged. “I dunno. Just… I just think we should be more careful with what we talk… or do around him.”

 

“We’re not doing anything wrong.”

 

“No, we’re not. But he… I don’t trust him. We all know it’s just a joke… what we do or say. But… what if… what if he… forget it.”

 

“You think he’s gonna tell anyone?”

 

“Yes. No one but us know I’m married. What if he goes and tells someone about –” She bit her lip nervously. “There’s nothing to tell, really. But what if me makes things out?”

 

Roger nodded, understanding what Brianna meant. “Then I’m fucking killing him.”

 

“I’ve decided to keep it secret. The marriage. Chris.”

 

“Why?”

 

“I don’t want to expose him,” Brianna said softly, running a hand through her curls tiredly. “I talked to him yesterday. He’s working a lot. And with important people.”

 

Roger observed her for a moment. He wondered if Brianna had said anything about the pregnancy. He wished he could ask her, but deep down he knew Brianna was not going to tell Chris over the phone she had lost their baby. Or in person. She said she wasn’t telling him because it’d break him and Roger knew she was probably right. In the very few occasions they’d met, the drummer could tell how much Chris loved Brianna. The way he held her hand, smiled when his eyes were on hers, it was as if Brianna had him enchanted.

 

During their rehearsals and shows, Chris was always there to wish her good luck, watch her, and then congratulate her and wait for her with bunch of roses and little presents.

 

“Did you tell him about it?”

 

“Not yet. I’ll do it when we go home. Though I’m not sure how’s he gonna take it.”

 

Roger frowned. “Why?”

 

“He kind of… he didn’t say it, but I think he expected me to take his name when we married.” Brianna explained, this time her eyes were on her wedding ring. “We’d already published our first album with my maiden name… changing it would’ve revealed I was married.”

 

They stayed in comfortable silence for a moment. Roger lay down again on her bed and wished he could smoke a cigarette.

 

“We should take that bubble bath Fred suggested.”

 

“Shut up.”

 

“Hey, I didn’t mean _together_ ,” he said, faking a hurt tone, but soon grinned pleasant she had understood another thing. “Think about it, love. I could scrub your back.”

 

Brianna smiled tiredly. She stood up, took her towels and headed to her bathroom. “I can scrub my own back, thank you very much, Rog.”

 

“It was worth a shot.”

 

…

 

“Now, don’t you look gorgeous?”

 

Brianna wasn’t looking at them. Her eyes were on the hems of the dress Freddie had given her to wear. It was too short for her taste and a little bit tight in all the wrong places.

 

But for Roger, it was perfect.

 

It was a dark dress, with a low cut on both sides, revealing the valley between her breasts and her back. When Brianna turned to the kitchen to fetch herself a beer, Roger saw the cut was deeper on the back, revealing she was wearing no bra. Her long locks looked shorter.

 

“You cut your hair?”

 

“Yeah. It was too long.”

 

Roger nodded, as he helped her opening the bottle. “You look sexy.”

 

“Ugh, shut up. I can’t believe I agreed to this.”

 

“Relax, darling. It’s just us.”

 

“Yeah. But I’m not used to this.”

 

Freddie’s eyes were on her feet. She was wearing her boots. “I should’ve packed you some shoes too.”

 

“It’s too short.”

 

“But you’ve got the sexiest legs I’ve ever seen!” Freddie batted his long eyelashes. “You should dress more like this when we play.”

 

She shook her head and swallowed her beer. “No.”

 

“How do you dress when you go out with Chris?”

 

“As always?” Brianna answered, taking a sit on the couch in the living room, crossing her legs. “What?”

 

“You’re no fun, Bri.” Freddie handed her another beer and sat next to her.

 

With the miscarriage left behind long weeks ago, Brianna was now starting to feel her old self. She felt stronger, wanting to do things all the time apart from writing songs and recording. She started to like the farm and its old beds which made strange noises. She enjoyed feeding the animals, leaving very early in the morning for a walk, a run sometimes if she felt like it, and returning with some flowers.

 

Her motherly side with the band came back. Brianna always insisted on cooking or making them breakfast. She truly enjoyed staying behind the counter, making tea and toast with cheese for John, while Freddie or Roger cooked the bacon and the eggs.

 

Now Freddie’s idea of having a party just a few days before going back home didn’t sound too bad. She had missed the nights at bars with the boys. Ever since marrying, going out with them was a little bit limited due to her schedule and Chris’ work.

 

Also, ever since marrying, Brianna had spent little time with Chris and she was aware of it. It saddened her deeply, not being able to stay with the man she had chosen for the rest of her life (Brianna believes love lasts forever) but her career and Queen were taking off and after struggling for so many years, she wanted it to make it work. Not only for her, but also for the band, for Freddie, for John, and for Roger. Each one of them had made enormous sacrifices to be where they were now.

 

Everything was perfect until Freddie brought vodka and other things that made Brianna a bit dizzy.

 

“Let’s dance!”

 

“I don’t dance.”

 

“Rog?”

 

The blonde shrugged. “It’s not fun dancing… here.”

 

“Fine. Suit yourselves.”

 

Roger sat next to the guitarist and both watched Freddie dance as if he were a contestant in a show where his life depended on his moves and the quality of his dancing. The music was loud and they knew they were lucky they had no neighbours.

 

And soon they took a shot, then two, then three… and Freddie fell on the couch across them.

 

“What have we got?” Roger said as he went to the records Freddie had brought. Inside the box, he found Joe Cocker’s record and he smiled to himself when he found the perfect song.

 

Brianna was checking Freddie was still breathing after dancing his ass off and drinking half a bottle of vodka when Roger took her hand and led her to the little space between their living room and the kitchen.

 

“I don’t… dance, Rog.”

 

“You place your arms here,” he said as he softly placed her long arms around his neck. “And I put mine here,” his hands were on her slim waist. “and then, we just move.”

 

Brianna’s eyes were on her feet. Despite being too drunk, she still didn’t want to step on the drummer.

 

When Roger’s eyes focused on her face, he noticed she was furiously blushing. Slowly, he moved his left hand upwards, until he reached her naked back. He rubbed small circles with his thumb, as his other hand was now on her hipbone.

 

“Bri.”

 

“Hmm?”

 

“You _do_ dance, love.”

 

“Shut up.”

 

“What if…” Roger leaned closer to her, and for a moment thanked her she wasn’t wearing higher heels. “What if I don’t want to shut up?”

 

“I’ll have to punish you, I suppose”

 

She curled her thin lips upwards as soon as her fingers caressed his nape. Brianna felt Roger relaxing and letting out a soft sigh. Almost as if he were too pleased. When he closed his eyes at the feeling of her fingers making their way on his scalp, Brianna pressed a chaste kiss to his cheek.

 

Roger opened his eyes. He wasn’t expecting a kiss. It did surprise him because the kiss was like no other Brianna had given him before. It was warm, soft, and it lasted. The drummer could have sworn she had pressed more than one kiss, but he was as drunk as she was, and probably could not trust his senses.

 

“You’re all touchy, love.”

 

“Speak for yourself,” she smiled and fixed her eyes on him. “Do you still dream about me?”

 

Roger played the confused card. “I don’t know what you mean.”

 

“C’mon. Tell me.”

 

“Sometimes.”

 

“Oh.”

 

“What about you? Do you dream about me?”

 

Suddenly her face changed. There was no smile, no grin, nothing. It took Brianna a minute or two to finally admit it.

 

“I dreamt about my baby last night,” Brianna whispered. A little tear escaped her eye. When she realised Roger had seen it, she moved her arms to his shoulders and buried her face on the crook of his neck. “It was alive.”

 

The drummer’s hands were on the small of her back, pressing her further and further against him. “D’you wanna talk about it?”

 

“I had it in my arms. I… saw the face… And I try to remember, but I can’t. All I remember is that it was blonde.” She whispered. The song had already finished, but they were still there, standing, still, Brianna enveloped in his strong arms. “I was looking for Chris because the baby was crying and I didn’t know what to do…”

 

“And?”

 

She looked up until their eyes met. “It was you. You were there.”

 

Her eyes, her hands, her soft breathing, everything about her hurt. It was probably the alcohol. They hadn’t drunk in weeks, at least not heavily as today. But leaving alcohol aside, something hurt inside him.

 

“I think you need to sleep, love.”

 

Roger stepped back. He took her hand and both walked up the stairs. He opened the door of her room, waited until Brianna had kicked her shoes off and got into bed to make his way downstairs and see how he was getting Freddie to his room when Brianna got hold of his hand.

 

“You were in my dream. You took the baby into your arms and it stopped crying.”

 

The drummer knew he was probably not going to remember this. And Brianna too. So he sat next to her, pulled her dark locks off her face and lowered himself until he was inches away from her mouth. He wasn’t kissing her. If she did, he was going to let her. He was a man who never took advantage of a drunk woman.

 

But he was right, because Brianna did kiss him on the lips.

 

It was a chaste kiss. Their lips met and soon he felt her hands cupping his face.

 

When he broke the kiss, she gave him a shy smile. “We shouldn’t have done that.”

 

“We can pretend nothing happened, love.”

 

“Probably.”

 

“Good night, Bri.”      

 

“Rog?”

 

“Hmm?”

 

“Perhaps I can see the future.”

 

“Perhaps.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you think? Will Roger and Brianna remember this the next morning? 
> 
> The song Brianna and Roger danced to is "You Are so Beautiful" by Joe Cocker.
> 
> Thank you for reading and for leaving a comment. Don't hesitate and write me if you want to talk. I'm actually considering creating a tumblr page. Post little snippets there. What do you think? I also have TONS of scenes that didn't make it here for some reason or another. I could probably post them on tumblr or here once this fic is over. Should I?


	14. Keep Good Company

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the aftermath of their kiss, Brianna admits to regretting things in her life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait. I haven't been well lately. 
> 
> Remember not to share this with any of the people involved in this fic, thank you.

_ Early October, 1975.  _

 

Brianna flinched the moment she opened her eyes and was greeted by the sunlight coming from her window, the curtains dangerously open, letting all the light flash her face and most of her room. 

 

She soon sat on her bed and pressed her fingertips against her temples the moment she felt the most terrible headache in history. When she looked down, she found herself wearing that little black dress Freddie had given her and that was as much as she could recall so far. 

 

Brianna groaned as soon as she got under the shower. She let the lukewarm body run down her body and her wild curls. Some flashbacks from the night before came back the moment she started rubbing her waist and lower back. 

 

_ “What if…” Roger leaned closer to her, and for a moment thanked her she wasn’t wearing heels. “What if I don’t want to shut up?” _

 

_ “I’ll have to punish you, I suppose.” _

 

Images of a passed out Freddie on the couch, empty bottles of beer everywhere, vodka, some cigarettes and the leftovers from lunch came back as well.

 

Also their dance.

 

As she dried her body, Brianna tried to recall what else had happened. Only bits and pieces which together did not make much sense were sprawled out in her mind, as if they were the pieces of fabric her mother used to create a patchwork blanket or stanzas of a lyric about to be conceived. 

 

Downstairs, she found Freddie wearing nothing else but his robe and drinking tea. 

 

“Good morning, darling.”

 

“Morning, Fred.” 

 

“Tea?” Without waiting for an obvious answer, the drummer appeared from the kitchen, placing a cup in front of her. “You look like a wet puddle.”

 

Brianna thanked the tea with a nod. “And you lovely as always.”

 

“Headache?”

 

“The worst.”

 

“What did you do after I passed out?” Freddie asked, and Brianna knew he was hiding a devilish grin behind his cup. “Nothing I wouldn’t have done, I hope.”

 

“Well, you know us. Nothing too dangerous.”

 

Brianna flinched again when Paul opened the door and left it open, allowing the sun to enter the place and shine all over her face. “So we had a party, huh?” He asked, standing next to Freddie as if he were his bloody dog. “Pity I wasn’t here to join the fun.”

 

“A real pity, yeah,” Roger said, sarcastically. “Had the time of our lives.” And then, the drummer turned to Brianna. “I could really use a walk, love.”

 

Before Brianna could answer, Paul laughed. He sat next to Brianna and placed his arm behind her shoulders. “That’s how you call it, now?” 

 

Roger shot him a murderous look. “Yeah. Problem?”

 

Brianna was about to kick the drummer’s legs under the table to make him stop, because she knew Paul could not be trusted. 

 

Back in the early days, when they met John Reid and became one of the most important bands he was managing, they trusted Paul and his services. He was there to do the paperwork when they had to leave the country and tour. He helped them book hotel rooms, hire good roadies, treat them with pizza every now and then. 

 

Brianna had even trusted Paul with her guitar once, when he asked her if he could hold it. Paul patted her back after every show and told her she did it amazingly.

 

But now Paul Prenter was nothing like the man the had met. 

 

Brianna had a premonition. A bad feeling contained inside her chest. A feeling that would one day prove itself right. Paul was one day going to stab them in the back and destroy the band. 

 

And the worst thing is that Paul won’t need to make things out in order to destroy them.

 

“Not at all.” Paul placed his car keys on the table. “You may take my car, if you want. Just don’t get the seats too dirty.”

 

Roger curled his lips upwards. “Shagging in your car again is no fun if you know it.”

 

“Roger.” Brianna glared at him.

 

“Now,” Freddie stood up and gave his bandmates a tight smile. “let’s finish this album, shall we?”

 

…

 

“No, I’m not leaving this cupboard.”

 

Freddie rolled his eyes. He tried again to pull the door, but it was somehow locked and Roger wouldn’t open it.

 

“Darling, it’s a good song…”

 

“It’s a  _ masterpiece _ , Fred.”

 

“Just get out so we can talk about this like the grownups we are.”

 

“I.am.not.leaving,” Roger shouted. “I want my song on the B side and I’m not leaving until -”

 

Freddie kicked the door exasperatedly, only to increase the volume of Roger’s screams, his high falsettos seemed to get everywhere in the house despite being locked inside the cupboard in the kitchen. 

 

“I WANT MY SONG ON THE B SIDE!”

 

The singer let out a long sigh. “Fine! Stay there for as long as you want! I’m not having that song on the album!”

 

“Why not?” Roger shot back. “You included everyone’s songs!”

 

Roger found himself shouting at no one. He soon realised this the moment no one shouted back at him or tried to kick the door open. 

 

He hugged his legs tightly and cried. Nothing in his life was working the way he wanted it to. He was locked in a farm in Wales, no one liked his song, Bohemian Rhapsody or whatever its name was was already finished but Freddie still wanted him to sing Galileos, he missed Dominique, Paul Prenter was a dick and Brianna… 

 

Something was happening to him and he couldn’t understand why his eyes would always look for her every morning when he made his way downstairs to have breakfast. His hands unconsciously looked for her. He craved her touch, minimal as it were, every time he rubbed her shoulders, placed a hand on her thighs or ran a hand over her dark locks the need to feel her warm skin under his fingertips was never fully satisfied. 

 

He craved for her attention too. Roger loved waltzing into her room, jump on her bed, on that bed which made awful noises, only to tell her silly jokes and make her laugh. 

 

Bri was his friend. They had gone through a lot together. They were more than two band mates. She had been there for him when he felt lost in dentistry and thought there was no future left for him. Brianna had helped him get in track the moment he switched to Biology, despite it wasn’t even her field. She cooked for him when there was nothing on his fridge. She looked after him every time he was too shit-faced. 

 

And Roger had been there when Brianna was broken. When Tim left, when he attacked her, when Brianna could no longer support herself. Roger was there to drive her to uni, and sometimes to her dates with Chris. 

 

It had been long weeks, perhaps more than a month, and Roger still didn’t know why her pregnancy upset him so much.

 

“Rog?”

 

“Bri?”

 

“Freddie told me you wouldn’t leave the closet?”

 

“This is a cupboard.”

 

Roger smiled a bit the moment he heard Brianna’s soft laugh. “Taking the piss.”

 

“Where’s Fred?”

 

“With Paul in the piano room.” Brianna paused for a moment. “Paul knows you talked to Reid.”

 

Roger shrugged. “So what?”

 

“So Freddie hired him.”

 

“What?”

 

“He’s Fred’s personal assistant.”

 

“Are you joking?”

 

“No.”

 

“Personal assistant… bloody hell!”

 

“Yeah. Now, get out of this cupboard, Rog.”

 

“No!”

 

“C’mon. This is really childish, you know.”

 

“I don’t care!”

 

There was a long silence. Roger knew Brianna was still there. He was about to open the door when he heard her soft voice again, this time whispering. 

 

“You know, staying here for almost three months made me think about a lot of things.” 

 

“‘bout what?”

 

“The band. Life. Us.” The moment she paused, Roger heard little sounds and soon he suspected she was taking her clogs off and probably sitting next to him, outside his cupboard. “Freddie. Deacy. You.”

 

“What about us?”

 

“We can have you locking yourself in closets -”

 

“Cupboard.”

 

“ _ Cupboard _ . Right. Well, you can’t keep on locking yourself in a cupboard every time Freddie decides not to include your song in the album.”

 

Roger knew Brianna was right. His hands curled into fists the moment he realised how stupid he must be looking, being inside a cupboard, refusing to leave, and being probably laughed at right now in the piano room. Yes, that was what was surely happening right now.

 

The door opened. Brianna gave Roger a little smile the moment her eyes met his face bearing dried-up tear tracks. As he moved a little bit to get out of the cupboard, he felt Brianna’s long arms embracing him, enveloping him, taking him in with her. 

 

He didn’t know he was sobbing and crying again, until he found himself being cradled in her arms, resting his face against her chest, and feeling her soothing heartbeats. 

 

“It’s okay, Rog,” Brianna whispered as she pressed a kiss to his forehead. 

 

He closed his baby blue eyes as he took her scent in. “I’m sorry.”

 

“I know you’re tired. You must probably miss Dom. Have you called her?” A nod. “So, how’s she?”

 

“She says she misses her daddy.”

 

Brianna let out a heartfelt laugh. In her arms, the drummer laughed too and soon fred himself from her embrace and rubbed his crying eyes with his knuckles. 

 

That was one of the things Brianna loved about her friend. The entire world could be crumbling around them. They could be about to die, but Roger had always something to say to make her laugh, or make himself laugh when he was feeling down. 

 

“You really have a daddy kink, don’t you?”

 

He shrugged. “C’mon, don’t tell me you haven’t got one.”

 

“I’m not telling you that.”

 

“I said it!”

 

“But I didn’t ask!”

 

He stood up and took her hand with his. “Let’s go for a walk and say good bye to this stupid place.”

 

As soon as they had their coats on, Roger took her hand and led the way outside.

 

…

 

“What d’you think  _ BoRhap _ is about?”

 

Brianna didn’t answer straight away. She kept her hands in the pockets of her jeans, her eyes on her feet, alert and trying to avoid the mud that seemed to be everywhere in the farm. She didn’t have much of an answer. She felt this was something Freddie didn’t pull off one day, as he said he had done. 

 

There was something deep behind the lyrics. They had questioned Freddie about it, and the lead singer merely ignored their questions and said he had come up with the sounds and the lyrics the morning Roger flew off the handle, while smoking a cigarette and listening to the quietness the farm offered. 

 

While writing her solo, and while jamming with Freddie, looking for the right sounds for the song which at that point had no name or lyrics, Brianna sensed this song meant a lot to Freddie. 

 

“What do _you_ think it’s about?”

 

“Dunno,” The drummer shrugged, and lit yet another cigarette. “a man going to hell?”

 

“And what’s behind _ I’m in Love with My Car _ ?”

 

“It’s just a song about my car! For fuck’s sake, Freddie still thinks I’m a closeted gay.”

 

“Well,” Brianna smiled at him. “there’d be nothing wrong with it.”

 

“I’m not fucking gay, okay?” Roger threw the cigarette and turned to her. “And what’s  _ 39 _ and  _ Good Company _ about, huh?”

 

“I wrote them for Chris.”

 

Roger frowned. His left index finger moving in the air, as if recalling the lyrics, trying to find something that made reference to Chris. The songs were nothing like _You’re My Best Friend_. It was clear though that Deacy had Ronnie in mind, but Brianna’s songs? As far as the drummer remembered Brianna telling them, _39_ was about a group of men embarking on a trip to space, only to come back and find their loved ones had already passed away. She had explained things about the speed of light, but Roger’s mind could not retain more than that.

 

As for _Good Company_ , Brianna explained she had dreamt about her father and a particular day, an afternoon when they finished her Red Special. Her father hugged her tightly, pressing her against his chest and asked her to fetch her camera and take pictures of her guitar.

 

_ “I want to be a rockstar.” _

 

_ “And you’ll be, Bri.” _

 

Brianna insisted she sang the song and Freddie was more than happy to help her shape her voice for countless days until the guitarist was pleased with the results.

 

“For Chris?” Roger echoed. “Thought they were for your dad.”

 

“I wrote  _ 39 _ after I talked to Chris one night. We’d been here for a week, and he said it felt like an eternity to him. So it came me. We were like space travellers. They conceive of time differently.”

 

“Right.” He said, his tone betraying him. Brianna soon smiled at him knowing he had no idea what she was talking about, and so she knew it would bore him to death if she started explaining how time works different in space than on earth. 

 

“ _ Good Company _ is my  _ Bohemian Rhapsody _ , I suppose.”

 

They had stopped to lean against a tree. From there, they could admire the farm, the house, the barn turned recording studio and even the animals they had taken to feed every other day. 

 

“In what sense?”

 

“There are probably many things about Freddie in  _ BoRhap _ .” Brianna whispered, not giving away what she suspected. “As there are many things about me in  _ Good Company _ .”

 

Before asking, Roger went through the lyrics again. It was a very difficult song to forget, since they’d been working on it for long weeks, not because Brianna wasn’t happy with it, or the sounds, or the lyrics. I was because probably Freddie, the one who asked her to re record the vocals, her ukelele, or Deacy’s bass, was the only who understood what the song really meant, or what Brianna was trying to say through it.

 

“What’s it about, Bri?”

 

She didn’t answer immediately. Instead, her eyes were on the wedding ring she had taken off and was now inspecting with her inquisitive eyes. Inside, she re-read her husband’s name engraved on it for what seemed to be the million time ever since marrying Chris. 

 

And then, she sang to him.

 

_ My very good friends and me _

_ We'd play all day and Sally J. _

_ The girl from number four _

_ And very soon I begged her won't you _

_ Keep me company _

_ Now marriage is an insinuation sure _

_ My wife and I our needs and nothing more all my friends by a year _

_ By and by disappear… _

 

“Is it… is it about Queen  and Chris?” Roger asked, somewhat hesitant about his question. 

 

She nodded. With her eyes on his, she sang to him again.

 

_ I flourished in my humble trade _

_ My reputation grew _

_ The work devoured my waking hours _

_ But when my time was through _

_ Reward of all my efforts my own _

_ Limited Company _

_ I hardly noticed Sall as we _

_ Pated Company _

_ All through the years in the end it appears _

_ There was never really anyone but me… _

 

“It’s what’s going to happen when we get back.”

 

“You think he’s gonna leave you?”

 

She shrugged, not a bit bothered or upset with his question and what it implied. 

 

They walked back to the farm in comfortable silence. The drummer did not lit more cigarettes since he was well aware how much Brianna disliked them. She said she had no problem with them smoking around, but deep inside Roger knew she hated it and put up with them because they were friends and she loved them.

 

It wasn’t until she linked her arm with his that he asked her the question. 

 

“But what would he do that?”

 

“Because he’ll make me choose between Queen and him and he already knows my answer. Now  he says he’s okay with it, with us recording, touring, recording, touring… But I know he’s lying to me… and I kind of… Sometimes I think I regret marrying him.”

 

Her confession was too much to take. Roger let some seconds pass to take in what she had just said to him. 

 

“But you love him, Bri.”

 

“With my whole life. But I don’t know if he’s happy with me leaving all the time. We’ve barely lived together as a normal couple since we married.” Her eyes were low, still on the grass, sometimes she would only look up to check if Paul was already on his car, chasing them around the farm. “After this album Reid said we’re surely touring the world and that’d take months. And we’re recording another album next year.”

 

“He could come with us.”

 

“He’s making it big… or whatever lawyers call it. And it’d be selfish of me to ask him to wait for me when… when I know he’s hates it. I also know he’s dying to have children and I don’t want to become a mother just now. Maybe in a couple of years.”

 

Roger soon took her hand and kissed her knuckles. “You’ll be a great rockstar mum.”

 

“And you a wonderful father. If you stop swearing, flying off the handle and locking yourself in cupboards, that is.”

 

“Very funny, love.”

 

“We should go back and pack our things.”

 

“Think you’re gonna be okay tomorrow? Being locked in a car with Paul for three hours?”

 

“I’d rather listen to you singing Galileo than sharing a car ride with Paul.”

 

“Hey, what’s wrong with my falsettos? Thought you liked them.”

 

“I do. But not when you don’t even know who he was.”

 

“Sorry if I’m not clever enough, Mrs Mullen.”

 

“Shut up.”

 

“Brianna May-Mullen. Brianna Mullen.” Roger raised an eyebrow at her. “Doesn’t sound right. But Brianna May-Taylor sounds _perfect_.”

 

She rolled her eyes. 

 

“Think about it. Brianna Taylor. Even better.”

 

They walked together side by side back to the farm in silence. Paul never left the piano room and chased them around the farm, which was relieving. 

 

“I’ve got the feeling you’ll end up falling for my charms.”

 

“You think?”

 

“Oh, yes. We are gonna tour the world and raise our kids in between gigs.”

 

He earned himself a little smack on the arm and her heartfelt laugh. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The final exchange between Roger and Brianna reminded me of my dear husband. There's nothing better than marrying your best friend.
> 
>  
> 
> So what do you think is gonna happen next?


	15. A Night at the Opera

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Before embarking on a new tour, Roger watches Brianna and Chris sharing an intimate moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a little 'in between' thing. Hope you like it. 
> 
> Thank you everyone for reading, for your bookmarks, for your comments. They make me smile. 
> 
> Remember not to share this with any of the people involved in this fic, please. Thank you.

_ Early 1976 _

 

As Brianna leaned back on the comfiest armchair in the entire universe, she let out a long, soft sigh. Looking down, she met the baby’s closed eyes and contented expression. After being fed, the baby was now sleeping in her long arms and for a moment she felt the happiest she had ever been in her entire life. 

 

The baby yawned, and soon his little hands were patting her breasts. She giggled a bit and took a hand. “Sorry, buddy. Got nothing for you there.”

 

Oblivious to the few people around them, Chris knelt next to his wife and smiled at her as soon as their eyes met. He had been observing her ever since she had got hold of Queen’s newest addition. The way Brianna instinctively cradled the baby in her arms, pressed kisses to his head, and smiled every time the baby curled his little fingers around hers filled in his chest with a sense of… longing. 

 

An intense feeling of yearning involved them. The smell, the little sounds escaping the baby’s mouth, his soft breathing against her chest. 

 

“Isn’t he beautiful, Chris?” Brianna whispered, not wanting to wake up the baby. 

 

He nodded, and pressed a kiss to her arm. “ _You_ look beautiful.”

 

“I’d like to have one.”

 

“Would you?”

 

Carefully, Chris tilted his head. His eyes were looking for hers, but Brianna’s were on the baby. The smile on her face vanished when she only answered to his question with a nod. 

 

“Hmm.”

 

“I’d like to have one too...  Whenever you feel it’s the right moment.”

 

They were in silence. The baby finally opened his eyes and met theirs. Soon, Brianna was cradling the baby tightly against her chest, as she closed her eyes and took his scent in. She knew she would have probably given birth by now had she not lost her baby. 

 

It was a secret deeply buried in her heart. A secret Chris will never know. At least he will never know from herself. It was a secret that Freddie, John and Roger were also keeping for her and will never tell a soul.

 

“Maybe after this tour.” Brianna whispered, now standing up, taking the baby in her arms, and cradling him for the last time before returning it to his mother. “We could start trying.”

 

Chris pressed a kiss to her lips and remained close to her,embracing her. His long arms rested on her waist, as he pressed more little kisses to her neck. “But we try every night.” And with that, one of his hands on her waist moved downwards to her lower back, until he softly and very quickly squeezed her arse.

 

“Chris!”

 

“What?” He shrugged. “No one’s looking.”

 

And with that, he took his drink and decided to join John Reid and Jim Beach and start discussing law again.

 

Brianna turned and caught Roger’s eyes. 

 

She gave him a little smile and decided to give Robert back to his mother. 

 

The drummer nodded at everything Dominique said. Yes, they should get a bigger flat. Yes, they could probably go to France and visit her family before the tour began. Yes, it was a lovely day.

 

And yes, he had listened and watched _them_ too.

 

…

 

They were about to embark on a new tour when John invited them all to his house to meet little Robert. 

 

When Roger and Dominique arrived, they were greeted by Veronica. Roger gave her a bouquet of flowers Dominique had helped him pick, and a big stuffed bear from Dominique. 

 

“Thank you, guys. You shouldn’t have!”

 

“ _You’re My Best Friend_ hit the charts!” Roger beamed as she helped him with his coat. “And you’ve just given Deacy a little Deacs!”

 

“I knew you were saying that,” said John, carrying two beers for the drummer and his girlfriend. “His name’s Robert.”

 

“Little Deacy’s cuter.”

 

“Don’t mind him, John,” Dominique said, with her characteristic accent, as she gave the bassist a quick hug. “he promised to behave today.”

 

The couple was greeted by John Reid, Jim Beach, Freddie, Mary, and even Paul, who was next to Freddie as his bloody lap dog. By just looking at Mary, Roger could tell she was also fed up with Prenter. 

 

“What’s he doing here?” 

 

Mary rolled her eyes and whispered, “Freddie insisted.”

 

Soon baby Robert was presented and held by everyone in the house. The baby was still too little and no one could really tell who he resembled the most. From his place on the couch and beer in hand Roger watched Dominique, Mary and Ronnie talking, while John held his baby and Freddie said they should take him to their tour. 

 

Even John Reid said it could be arranged. 

 

Now everything could be arranged. Whatever they wanted, John Reid gave it to them. _A Night at the Opera_ was a success, even when they decided to walk out, throw a stone and smash Ray Foster’s window, and wait for record labels to fight for them.

 

And they bloody well did.

 

It was a leap of faith. Jim Beach told them pissing Ray Foster could make the entire industry turn their backs on them. He was a giant in the music industry. But despite Foster’s attempts to destroy them, Queen managed to sign a an important deal and they were touring the world. 

 

_Bohemian Rhapsody_ and _I’m In Love with My Car_   were big songs now.

 

Queen was big now.

 

Some time before lunch, The May-Mullen arrived. 

 

After spending three months at Rockfield recording songs and the equal amount of time thinking about it, Brianna decided to let the world know she was married. And so when they broke with EMI and signed another deal with a different company, Brianna May became Brianna May-Mullen. 

 

Foster, Reid and even Paul said that keeping her marriage secret would help them 'broaden their appeal'. But the press turned to be far more respectful towards the subject than they had ever imagined. During their interviews, while Roger and Deacy let Freddie and Brianna take on the heavy questions, and a few of them were personal. When asked, Brianna would only reply she was happily married to the love of her life. And that was it. 

 

“Hey, Rog,” Brianna kissed his cheek. 

 

“Bri.”

 

“Hello, mate. Long time no see.” Chris shook his hand.

 

Roger faked a smile. “Yeah. Yeah, you’re right.”

 

They fell into a long and uncomfortable silence until Brianna came back carrying baby Robert in her arms. Soon Chris was helping her sit on the armchair, and Dominique came back with another bottle for him. She sat next to him and threw an arm around his stomach.

 

“We should go to France before the tour.”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Visit my family.”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“And then…”

 

And then his eyes were on Brianna and little Deacy in her arms. He watched her, entranced, by the way her arms cradled the baby, how she closed her eyes every time she kissed his little head and took his scent in. 

 

“We should start looking for a bigger place too.”

 

Roger nodded. “Yeah.”

 

Chris was kneeling next to the armchair and pressing kisses to Brianna’s arm. Roger watched the scene in silence, and merely nodded at everything Dom said about their current flat, or whatever she was talking about. 

 

“Isn’t he beautiful, Chris?” He heard her whisper.

 

“ _You_ look beautiful.”

 

Of course she looked beautiful. She was wearing a pair of flared jeans, her beloved white clogs, and a denim shirt which surprisingly enough, was not oversized, but clung to his body, accentuating her slim waist and her breasts. 

 

Roger had noticed when he first saw her she was wearing make-up and even earrings. The Brianna he had seen for the last time many weeks ago was gone and there was a new Brianna sitting across him, with baby Robert in her arms. 

 

This Brianna was cradling the baby with love and care. With the love Roger knew she would cradle her own child the day she had one.

 

“I’d like to have one.”

 

“Would you?”

 

“Hmm.”

 

“I’d like to have one too... whenever you feel it’s the right moment.”

 

“Maybe after this tour.” Brianna whispered, now standing up, taking the baby in her arms, and cradling him for one last time before returning it to his mother. “We could start trying.”

 

Dominique pressed a kiss to his cheek and said she needed to go to the loo. She left him there, alone, with an empty bottle of beer in his hand, staring at the scene in front of him. Watching Brianna and Chris writing the moment that one day will come back to the three of them. 

 

The drummer felt the painful need to smoke two cigarettes together. He dug his hand deep into his pockets until he found the box and his lighter. 

 

When Roger put a cigarette to his lips, he watched Chris’ hands on Brianna.

 

Chris pressed a kiss to her lips and remained close to her, embracing her. His long arms rested on her waist, as he pressed more little kisses to her neck. “But we try every night.” He said seductively. 

 

“Chris!”

 

“What?” He shrugged. “No one’s looking.”

 

Chris left with a drink in his hand, ready to join John Reid and Jim Beach on the other corner of the living room. 

 

Ready to take baby Robert back to his mother, Brianna turned and gave Roger a smile as soon as their eyes met.

 

Once Brianna was gone with little Deacs, Roger went outside and sighed with relief the moment he lit his cigarette and took a long and deep drag. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A friend of mine told me "But Brian had three children with Chrissy." while discussing this universe. Ugh, it's so difficult to take a decision when it comes to these two!
> 
> A tumblr page is coming soon! 
> 
> Let me hear (or read) your thoughts on this. I'm a slut for your comments, kudos, bookmarks, and Gwilym Lee. Blame BoRhap...


	16. Let's Try

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Queen embarks on one of their longest tours around the world, Brianna takes an important decision about her future with Chris.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is the first chapter told from Brianna's pov. Let's see how it turns out. 
> 
> Thank you everyone for reading, leaving a comment and your kudos. 
> 
> Remember not to share this fic with any of the people mentioned in it. Thanks.

_Late 1976_

 

Touring the UK for the first time and no longer supporting any other band made them realise how truly big Queen was. For a month and a half they toured the UK and in every city they stopped they were greeted by hordes of fans asking them for an autograph on the latest magazines featuring the band.

 

This time Reid and their new recording label paid for the best hotels, for someone to design their clothes, for a new kit for Roger and more roadies. They had now, as Freddie had predicted before recording _A Night at the Opera_ , fans who were literally kissing their feet and shouting their names.

 

“Told you, did I? You’re big now, sweetheart.”

 

“We’re like gods to them,” Freddie added, as he smiled to Chris.

 

Freddie was delighted with Chris. And now that the lawyer had taken some free time and went on the tour with them, along with Mary, Dominique, Ronnie and ‘Little Deacy’, as they loved to called him, Freddie felt in his element. Partly because he liked Chris, and partly because he was really good at distracting Reid, so they could leave the hotel incognito and party in every city they visited.

 

As they rehearsed, Chris, Dominique, Ronnie and Mary would sit behind the controls, drink coffee, watch them play or simply go out and walk around the city. So far the press did not interfere or harassed them, as they will in the future.

 

Freddie said it was good they got along well. He said they were like a big family and that probably soon more children were to join the Queen family.

 

“You look incredibly hot,” Chris said as he kissed Brianna. “they’re gonna love you.”

 

For the first time in many years, Brianna finally agreed with the fashion designer in charge of creating their stage wear that low-cut tops, flared trousers and boots would definitely make her look like Queen.

 

This night they were all wearing matching clothes: white tops and dark trousers. Freddie insisted on wearing ballet suits in black and white. Roger open shirts or leather vests and John, having cut his hair shorter now, preferred silky shirts.

 

“I don’t feel entirely comfortable with this.”

 

They were ready. The crowds were ready. Their instruments, the lights, the mics, everything and everyone was ready. Mary, Dominique and Ronnie were giving Freddie, Roger and John some last touches, insisting they wore some make-up, maybe fix their hair differently, telling them to be careful with their high heeled shoes.

 

As they listened to the people shouting their names, Brianna stopped trying to pull at the low-cut top, knowing it was futile since it wasn’t going to become larger enough to cover her arse. She was deeply self-conscious of her body and while everyone (Chris, the fashion designer Reid had hired, Mary, Dominique and even Ronnie) told her she should take more risks and show ‘some more skin’, Brianna still felt a lanky girl who was too tall and whose legs were rather too long.

 

“Chris’s right, love.” Roger said as he picked up his drumsticks and shoved them into his pockets. “You look good.”

 

While they made their way to the stage, Brianna caught the look on Chris’ face.

 

“Bri?”

 

“Yeah?”

 

He seemed to be about to say something, but soon dismissed it. “Good luck.”

 

“Thanks.”

 

If their first gig left them craving for more, they still didn’t know what the rest of the tour – and the world – had to offer them.

 

…

 

It was Christmas Day when Brianna and Chris kissed for what they knew was going to be the last time in long months. According to Reid, they were finishing the tour in April. That was going to be four months apart, the longest they had been away from each other.

 

“I’ll call every night.”

 

Chris laughed and kissed her curls. “Call whenever you can. I’ll try and see if I can make it when you hit New York.”

 

“But that’d be… what? February?”

 

“Sorry, sweetheart,” Chris said with a sigh. “But I took nearly two months off to join the tour. That’s a lot. I think I’d be able to make it in February only for a weekend.”

 

Brianna buried her face deep into his chest as she realised she had to leave. “I love you. I’m sorry I’m leaving you again.”

 

“Hey, don’t say that, sweetheart. C’mon, are you crying?”

 

She nodded.

 

“I love you. If I’ve got to be honest with you, I hate to see you leave, really. But this is you. You’re a rockstar. You’re _Queen_ , love.”

 

Brianna heard Reid calling her name and saying their plane was leaving soon. She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him for long seconds. Little they cared for the people around her. Soon she heard some girls had recognised her, and now were saying she was Brianna May, Queen’s guitarist.

 

“Go. They are waiting for you.”

 

“When I come back…”

 

“Yes?”

 

“When I come back we can start _trying_.”

 

Chris smiled lovingly, knowing what she meant. “Can’t wait.”

 

…

 

Brianna looked up from the book she was reading and watched Roger and Dominique kissing. She was practically on his lap, and Brianna knew for sure the air hostess was going to pass by and tell them _again_  passengers should sit on their sets.

 

Everyone was travelling with their partners, except for herself and Freddie, who was deeply engrossed in conversation with Prenter, his personal assistant.

 

While watching Roger and Dominique, John and Ronnie and their baby, Brianna felt contented, but a bit jealous. This time, if Chris couldn’t get to leave the office when they got to New York, she was spending four months away from him and the mere idea made her sick.

 

Ever since going back home from Rockfield, Brianna’s love for Chris grew and grew. She remembered telling Roger she sometimes regretted marrying him. And it was true, but not because she didn’t love him, but because she thought it was unfair for him to be married to her when all Brianna did and planned to do for as long as she could was making music.

 

And making music implied recording, touring, recording, touring and so on.

 

But when she came back from Wales, seeing him again made her regrets vanish. She blamed herself for leaving for too long, and Chris didn’t know what to do or say to make her understand he would never be unhappy to see her leaving, because this is who she was – a Rockstar – a guitarist and singer destined to become one of the greatest musicians of all time.

 

So when they came back, and while breaking up with EMI and signing a new deal with a new recording label, Brianna tried to keep herself away from anything related to the band and focus on her husband and their home. Now that money was no longer a problem, she toured London looking for things to decorate her home, plants and flowers, and even took to cook all the time and try new recipes.

 

Brianna fell in love with domesticity.

 

And it was as if she had fallen in love with Chris again. Maybe Roger was right – she could make it work. Recording and touring were tough business, but Chris said he would always be there, and now that he was becoming increasingly important for the law firm he worked for, and was good at what he did, could afford to take some time off and maybe join them when they toured.

 

Watching Deacy and Ronnie with their sleepy baby on the plane made Brianna remember the long talk she had with Chris. She finally admitted to wanting children but also to to touring the world with Queen. In between tears she told him she had realised there was nothing in the world she wouldn’t want but to give him a baby, have one of their own, one that could look like them and make their family complete.

 

“But I also want Queen. I can’t… I can’t just have it and leave it with you. Not like John. And even if I could, I wouldn’t do it.”

 

“It’s okay, Bri.”

 

“No, it’s not. It’s not because I want us to start a family.” She finally admitted. “But I also want to make music and never stop.”

 

Her eyes were lost in his, in his blue eyes, his rosy cheeks, his dark blonde hair and the way little wrinkles were making their way on his forehead and the corner of his eyes. Chris’ long arms pressed her tightly against his chest when he kissed her tenderly, lovingly. 

 

“Then make music. You’ve fought for this for a long time, Bri. I know how hard you and they boys tried to finally be where you are. So make music. Let the world listen to your music. You’ll have some time to stop. And then, well, maybe our baby and I could tour with you?”

 

Brianna was smiling, her eyes no longer on her book but on the window, looking at the clouds, at the vast ocean that was going to keep her away from Chris for months when she felt a hand on her shoulder.

 

“Love.”

 

“Wha – Rog, what is it?”

 

“You okay?” Roger turned to check on Dom who was fast asleep on her seat. He sat on the empty seat next to Brianna and pressed a hand on her thigh. “Missed you, love.”

 

Brianna shook her head, still smiling. She looked how his thumb started rubbing circles on her thigh. She knew she would be lying if she said Roger’s touchy nature bothered her. It never did. She had sometimes found herself craving for his touch, for his warm hands to find their way on her shoulders, her waist or her thigh.

 

“Missed you too.”

 

“So… four months without the hubby.”

 

“Four months, yeah.”

 

“Well, Dom here keeps me busy at night, but I don’t mind joining you in your room. Or perhaps _you_ could join us.”

 

She laughed and patted his arm. “Shut up.”

 

They fell into comfortable silence. Brianna’s eyes were fixed on the window, on the clouds, the sea under the plane. She was oblivious to the pair of eyes on her, on her hands on her lap, on her wedding ring. Inside her mind, she went through the last night she had spent with her husband. They went out for dinner to a fancy place. She wore a dress, a pair of shoes and a leather jacket. She said she wasn’t entirely comfortable with the outfit, but Chris said she looked beautiful.

 

They walked back to their flat, hand in hand. Chris asked her if she remembered all the cities they were visiting. He smiled when he listened to her listing the cities – she knew them all by heart. The cities, the dates, the venues.

 

When they arrived home, Chris gave Brianna a new camera. It was brand new and he even got her initial engraved on it.

 

_BMM_

 

They made love. As she fell tiredly on his chest, Brianna felt protected, cared for, loved. She soon felt Chris’ long arms pulling her against him, caressing her back, pressing kisses to her collarbone, saying sweet things to her ear.

 

It made her think she could spend the rest of her life wit him. There was no one else who could possibly love her as much as he did.

 

And that made her feel he deserved more. The little things she did for him would never be as good as the things he did for her. He had healed her heart. Chris made her realise she could fall in love again, trust him. Not all men were like Tim. Chris was nothing like Tim.

 

Chris was the man she wanted to have a family with.

 

Bring life to this world.

 

“What’s in your head?”

 

Brianna turned to him. She gave him a broad smile, one that showed her perfect teeth. “Nothing.”

 

She watched him grinning. “Oh c’mon, love. Don’t you trust me?”

 

“I was just… thinking about last night.”

 

Roger grinned from ear to ear. Literally. “What did you do last night?”

 

“Went out for dinner.”

 

“And?”

 

She shrugged. And then blushed.

 

“C’mon, Bri. I tell you everything.”

 

“We made love.”

 

“And?”

 

Brianna looked at him puzzled.

 

“Go on.”

 

“I’m not telling you!”

 

“I bet’s he’s so boring.”

 

Brianna knew he was doing it on purpose and oh, she was so playing his game. “He’s a _sex god_.”

 

“Pleeeease,” the drummer threw his head back. “How many orgasms did he give you?”

 

“Six.”

 

“You’re lying.”

 

“I’m not.”

 

“Yes, you are!”

 

“You’re just jealous.” Brianna crossed her arms across her chest and was trying very hard not to laugh at his face.

 

Roger’s hand returned to her thigh, but this time he moved it upwards, stopping only a few inches before it got dangerously further up. Without previous warning, Brianna felt his lips against her cheek, practically on the corner of her smiling lips.

 

When she turned to him, he was already leaving her side and going back to Dominique.

 

Brianna returned to her book.

 

But some minutes later, something inside her stung the moment she saw Dominique kissing Roger, as his hands were on her thigh.

 

…

 

They had the whole of America wrapped around their little fingers.

 

Literally.

 

Some people camped outside their hotels. When they went to the doors to go to the venues and rehearse they could not leave without their guards and security. Venues sold out really fast and they stayed in some cities and played more than once.

 

It was unbelievable. Brianna still couldn’t believe it. She blushed when girls and boys shouted her name. During gigs men shouted at her all sorts of things. They were always nice, almost never they got to far from ‘You’re beautiful, doll!’

 

Her confidence grew. Her low-cut tops were more and more daring every night. Some nights she would wear leather or velvet trousers. They were tight in all the right places and she now replaced her clogs for boots or trainers, depending on her mood. She wore make up and jewellery and danced to the rhythm of their music.

 

When they sang _Bohemian Rhapsody_ , and it was time for her solos, Deacy and Freddie would hide themselves in the shadows, and let the lights focus only on her.

 

It was one of the most incredible moments she had ever lived.

 

And every night she called Chris and told him everything about their gigs, the cities they visited, the people, the little presents she got from the fans. She also told him how much she missed him.

 

And that is how they were in New York for four nights and Brianna and Chris were finally reunited.

 

They walked the long streets of New York hand in hand. Every night Chris would watch them play and bang his head to her solos, take photos, and beam with pride while listening to her voice singing.

 

Knowing her husband was watching made Brianna a little bit nervous. During those nights she had problems with the strings of her guitar, but there were her most trusted roadies ready to replace her Red Special for another one and fix it quickly.

 

After every gig, Chris was there to hold her in his arms and with flowers only for her.

 

“Chris.”

 

Brianna was tired after the gig. She lost weight and needed to sleep for long hours until she felt herself again. But this time, Chris was with her, on her bed, and suddenly the hotel room with the best view of the city didn’t feel as big as it used to.

 

Now she felt complete.

 

He was kissing her jaw, her collarbones, kissing her breasts, her belly, leaving traces all over her body when she stopped him and made him look into her eyes.

 

“Let’s make a baby.”

 

The words left her mouth so quickly that it took Chris some seconds to understand what she had said and what she meant.

 

He had waited for so long to hear those words he wanted her to pinch him to check weather this was a dream or not.

 

“Bri… are you sure?”

 

Brianna smiled tenderly at him. She wasn’t sure.

 

She was determined this time.

 

Brianna wanted this with her heart. She wanted to give Chris a child. Start a family of their own. Stop for a while.

 

Maybe they could raise a baby in between gigs.

 

They could make it work.

 

“Yes. Let’s have a baby.”

 

“I love you.”

 

They felt so much love. They hadn’t seen each other for more than a month and Brianna had dreamt of locking herself and Chris in her room and not leaving for as long as they could. But this time they made love slowly, tenderly. They took their time and loved each other as they had never done before.

 

“What d’you think is gonna be?”

 

Brianna gave him a tired smile and pressed a kiss to his lips. “He’s going to be a very healthy and beautiful boy.”

 

“A boy, huh? Have you got a name?”

 

“I think so, yes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, we have got a tumblr page: myfourmisfits.tumblr.com 
> 
> I'm still trying to figure out how it works, but you are most welcome to come and chill. Oh, you can also leave a question/message. 
> 
> Here I'm a slut for your comments, kudos, bookmarks, Gwilym Lee. Blame BoRhap...


	17. Jealous

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading, for your kudos and so on. 
> 
> Please don't share this with any of the people involved, thanks. 
> 
> So the 'mutual' pinning begins...

_February 1977_

 

“Sorry I’m late!” Brianna was literally running to get to the stage, juggling with both her coat and her guitar.

 

Her curly hair was a mess. Freddie, John and Roger noticed her clothes did not match and she was blushing furiously.

 

Behind her, Chris was carrying a plastic tray with cups of coffee from the coffee shop round the corner for everyone. “Sorry, guys. It’s my fault. We lost track of time.”

 

They had agreed on meeting on the venue before noon to go through the list of songs for the gig, maybe make some changes, rehearse a couple of transitions between songs and do some sound check with the crew.

 

When they met downstairs in the hotel, Brianna was nowhere to be seen. Freddie soon said she must have gone out with Chris and would probably join them at the venue. However, Paul informed them she had gone out with her husband late the night before and hadn’t returned yet.

 

So Roger raised an eyebrow when he saw her on the stage, looking well and truly shagged, wearing yesterday’s clothes, her air a whole mess, and sporting two hickeys near her collarbone.

 

There was a devilish grin on Freddie’s lips the moment he met Chris and took a cup of coffee. “No need to apologise, darling.” He turned to Brianna and grinned even more as he took a long look at her. “Now look at you, Bri. All glowing! Having loads of mind-blowing sex?”

 

Even Deacy chuckled from his place at the sight of a very red Brianna. She merely rolled her eyes and sat with her guitar, her eyes on the strings, softly turning the instrument she had built with her father years ago.

 

“Hope you guys don’t mind me watching you rehearse,” Chris said, making his way on the stage and handing John a cup of coffee. “I’m going back to London in a couple of hours.”

 

Deacy smiled to the man he was so fond of and thanked him for the coffee. “You shouldn’t have come, Bri. We can practice just fine, right Fred?”

 

“Of course, we’ve got to –”

 

Chris was now offering a cup to Roger when the drummer hit his cymbals with more strength than necessary, making him wince at the sudden loud noise.

 

“We got a bloody gig tonight!”

  
They all turned to the drummer. His tone was harsh. Somewhat unexpected. Unaware of all the eyes on him, Roger left his kit and made his way to the front of the stage, where everyone was, he felt hot, almost as if he had fever.

 

“We’ve got to rehearse and do the sound check.”

 

“We can do it just fine.” Deacy shrugged.

 

The drummer threw his sticks to the direction of his kit. “Fine. Don’t blame me when we mess up with the songs.”

 

Freddie shot him a dangerous look. He turned to Brianna, “Bri, darling, take your handsome husband with you and have some fun.”

 

“It’s okay, Fred. Roger’s right.”

 

“He’s all bitchy because Dom left him,” the singer whispered to her. “come on. You won’t see him in two more months. Take the day off.”

 

Chris joined in. “I didn’t mean to cause all this…”

 

“For God’s sake, darling. Go. We’ll do just fine,” He pulled Chris into a hug. “Thank you for joining us in our tour. We promise we’ll return dear Bri back to you very soon.”

 

“Thank you for looking after her, Freddie. I… I worry sometimes. But I know you guys look after everyone. My Bri too.”

 

“Of course we do, dear. Bri’s safe here with us.”

 

From behind his drums, Roger watched Chris saying goodbye to Freddie and Deacy. And soon coming to him too.

 

“See you, mate.”

 

It was cold. Chris offered his hand, but their handshake was cold. Chris was not smiling at him the same way he smiled at John or Freddie.

 

After the lawyer and Brianna were gone, Roger locked eyes with Deacy. The bassist shook his head at him.

 

Roger felt like exploding.

 

Ever since Thursday he felt the world was against him. He could hardly concentrate before and during gigs. He started to miss a beat or two, sometimes threw his sticks and broke them too soon into the gig. Roger could not sleep at night, or at least in the early hours of the day after a gig, and he stopped eating. And at top of that, he had an argument with Dom and she decided to book herself a flight back to London and leave, not even telling him she was gone. He had to find out through Paul, who helped her book the flight and get to the airport.

 

Everything and everyone seemed to be annoying and bothering him. Even the cold weather in New York and the fans who camped outside and would throw themselves at him every time he tried to leave to walk around and calm his nerves.

 

“You’ve been all bitchy since Thursday.”

 

“So?”

 

Roger knew that look on Freddie’s eye. He knew that look and he should have predicted what the singer was about to ask him. “Same day Chris joined us.”

 

“And?”

 

“Quite the coincidence.”

 

“Fuck off, Freddie.”

 

“You’ve never been this bitchy when he’s around.”

 

“And you’ve never been this fucking ridiculous before.”

 

“What’s bothering you, Rog?”

 

“Nothing’s bothering me!”

 

To his own surprise, Freddie did not leave his spot close to his kit. He stood there, grinning, and as soon as one of the technicians took Deacy away to take a look at their amps, he leaned in to whisper something to him.

 

“When are you telling her?”

 

“Telling who what?”

 

“You know who and what.”

 

Roger was about to hit his cymbals again when Freddie grabbed his arm. “When are you telling Bri you love her?”

 

“What?”

 

“Please,” Freddie smiled, showing his prominent teeth. “You’ve loved her since you joined the band. When was that? 1968?”

 

“Shut up, Fred!”

 

“You know, the fact that she’s married doesn’t mean anything.”

 

Roger frowned. “I thought you liked Chris.”

 

“Oh, I do. But I like you more.”

 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

 

Freddie’s eyes and voice softened. So far, it seemed Freddie was taking the piss, pulling his leg, probably trying to play one of his games to make him smile because Roger knew Freddie knew why he was so pissed off lately.

 

So he wasn’t expecting Freddie’s comment.

 

“Dom told me you called her Brianna -”

 

“It was an accident!”

 

“- when you were having sex.”

 

“So?”

 

“So?” Freddie repeated. “You tell me, Rog.”

 

The drummer stood up abruptly, kicking his stool and lighting a cigarette on his way out the venue.

 

…

 

“Rog.”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Can we… can we talk?”

 

“‘Course,” Roger opened the door of his room and gestured her to get in. “Want a drink?”

 

She shook her head and sat awkwardly on his bed. She was soon joined by the drummer, who had poured himself some whiskey and looked really tired after their last gig in New York.

 

“What is it, love?”

 

He watched her struggling. It made him wonder what she could possibly want to tell him. She looked all right to him when she came back from the airport. Roger had noticed her eyes were red, and he didn’t ask her what had happened, fully knowing she must have cried after saying goodbye to Chris. They were not seeing each other again in two more months.

 

Before their gig they all got ready together. Brianna was no longer a prude, and didn’t mind changing clothes in front of them. While they played, she said a little joke to the audience and then suggested they all had some drinks before going to bed.

 

“Bri?”

 

“Rog… is there anything wrong going on between you and Chris?”

 

What?

 

The drummer frowned confusedly. “What? Why you ask?”

 

“It’s just… today -”

 

“I’m sorry about today. I was just… bitchy.”

 

Brianna gave him a tight smile. “I’ve noticed that lately… well, that you and him don’t talk as much as you used to. He told me you’ve been really distant as of late.”

 

“He said that?” She nodded. “Well, we don’t hang out much, yeah. What about it?”

 

“Nothing. It’s just… forget it.”

 

Roger watched her lying on her back on his bed, the same bed he used to share with Dom just two days ago. She let out a long sigh when she felt her muscles relax.

 

He followed her, but soon turned to his side to face her. Her eyes were open, fixed on the ceiling when she pressed a shy hand on her stomach. Roger’s blue eyes scanned her. She was still wearing her stage clothes, dark flared leather trousers, a white silky low-cut top and her white clogs.

 

His eyes followed the line from her neck down to the hand resting on her stomach.

 

His heart was not prepared for what he was going to be told.

 

“Chris and I decided to have a baby.”

 

What?

 

He said nothing. His eyes were on her face, on her eyes, the way her lips curled upwards at the mention of the word ‘baby’. Her eyes were glowing. Her cheeks reddened. Roger knew her mind was already on the months ahead, thinking of her baby coming to the world.

 

“A baby, huh? I take it you’ve already started trying.”

 

She nodded, blushing. “Yeah.”

 

“Have you got a name?”

 

“I like ‘Jimmy’ for a boy. And ‘Emily’ if it’s a girl,” Brianna’s smile widened. “Chris says he likes them. We don’t want to keep our hopes too high, though.”

 

“Have you told him about… you know.”

 

“About what happened at Rockfield?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“No,” she let out a long sigh. “I… I don’t dare telling him. It’d break him. And he’s gonna be terribly mad at me for not telling him. Which is completely understandable.”

 

Roger’s expression softened. He pressed his hand against hers on her stomach. He thought she was smacking his hand, or probably tell him to shut up before he even said anything.

 

But she didn’t. Her eyes met his, and she smiled at him gently. Her free hand caressed his face, as if cupping his cheek.

 

“You know, Rog… I know we kissed at Rockfield.”

 

“So you remember.”

 

“Of course I do,” she bit her lip. “I guess we were too shitfaced.”

 

He nodded. “Yeah. You were all handsy, love.”

 

“Well, as I said… we were _too_ shitfaced. It didn’t mean _anything_.”

 

That hurt, Roger thought. “‘Course.”

 

She opened her mouth to say something but soon discarded the idea. Instead, she sat up. “Sorry about Dom.”

 

Roger shrugged. “S’alright, I s’posse.”

 

“You sure you’re okay?” Brianna asked. “We could go out, if you want. I can’t drink, just in case I’m… you know.”

 

He took her hand and both laced their fingers together. The drummer was still convinced he didn’t love Brianna. No, love wasn’t the word. She was his friend. The one with whom he had cried once or twice, who had cooked for him, taken care of him, done countless things for him.

 

He must have been lusting after her, probably. Brianna was really attractive, a good-looking woman. Despite being so self-conscious about her long legs and her height, many have assured her she could have anyone she wanted. Mary had told her so many times. She had a perfect body, with the right shapes, the right legs, the right breasts.

 

Roger had seen throughout the years, from his place behind the drums, many men and women drooling after watching her play her beloved guitar. Brianna, the only woman in an all men band was attractive, as Foster put it some time ago.

 

Yeah, Roger knew he was probably attracted to her physically. But being in love was a complete different thing.

 

_I’m not in love with her._

 

“Rog?”

 

The drummer took her hand to his lips. His blue eyes were on her as he pressed soft kisses all along her knuckles.

 

For him, it was something he had done before.

 

For Brianna, it was one of the most sensual things she had ever experienced. There was Roger, kissing her hand, his blue eyes on her, and she felt something down. Down _there_. They were in complete silence and all she could hear was her heart beating faster and faster. It made her wonder if Roger could hear her heart too.

 

“We should go to bed.”

 

As in slow motion, Roger was moving towards her. Instinctively, Brianna closed her eyes as she felt his soft breathing so close to her face.

 

And then, his lips landed on hers.

 

“Good night, love.”

 

“Good night.”

 

Not muttering a word afterwards, she left his room and locked herself in hers.

 

Not bothering taking her clothes off, or cleaning her face from the make-up Freddie had helped her apply before the gig, Brianna made her way to her bed, the one in which, for the last couple of days, she and Chris had tried to conceive a child.

 

Brianna only kicked off her clogs, got herself under the covers and closed her eyes, her mind rapidly going back to the events of the day.

 

She fell asleep wondering why she wished certain drummer was kissing her again.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So a kiss, huh? And they are not even drunk? Yeah. Will they kiss again? Probably. 
> 
> I'm a slut here for your comments, kudos, bookmarks, Gwilym Lee. Blame BoRhap.


	18. This is what I want

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, look! The rating changed.  
> SO HERE'S WHAT Y'ALL HAVE BEEN WAITING FOR. Yes, I'm screaming because this took me like two months and LOTS of pinning. The slow burn is a bitch. We y'all love it, don't you? You didn't get it yet? OK, Bri and Roger FINALLY succumb to their own desires, if you get what I mean.  
> Thank you for reading, for your kudos, comments. Remember not to share this with any of the people in this. Thanks!

_Japan, 1977._

 

 

Paul’s inquisitive eyes fell on the pair sitting across them, a few feet away. Roger and Brianna were sitting on an armchair. Brianna was not on his lap, but very close, with one long leg hung on top of his. The drummer’s left hand was around her shoulders while his right was on her waist. She was leaning against him, too close to his face while she went through a magazine.

 

She turned slightly to the drummer and whispered something to his ear. In return, Roger’s hand, which had been on her shoulder, moved downwards till it found a new place on her hipbone. His hand on her waist was now on her thigh.

 

Brianna pressed a hand against his chest to steady herself. This time the drummer was whispering things to her ear, and she let out a loud laugh.

 

They were taking the piss, acting out for Paul.

 

Or so they thought.

 

Paul smirked. His eyes drifted from the pair to Freddie, who was deeply engrossed on an English-Japanese dictionary. He occasionally took down notes and practised with their Japanese interpreter. The singer had said, as soon as they were flying to Japan, that he wished to speak more of the language to surprise their most faithful fans in the world. 

 

Japan was the first country they visited when Reid became their manager.

 

And God, they loved them. They literally worshipped them. The Japanese screamed, cried, were at their feet long before England, their own homeland, knew who they were.

 

As soon as Paul left, Roger pressed a kiss to Brianna’s cheek. “You okay, love?”

 

“Yes. Just tired after the flight.” She ran a hand over her curls. “Hope the conference doesn’t take long.”

 

The press conference did take long. Between the long questions, their short answers, and then the translations, the one-hour presentation lasted something like two hours, and the car ride to their hotel felt like a whole lifetime after the long flight and the jet lag.

 

“We’re doing a photoshoot tomorrow morning,” Paul read for the band as soon as they had been given the keys to their rooms. “then a TV interview for Freddie only after lunch, you’ve got also scheduled a meeting with some fan clubs and… that’d be it.”

 

“Can we go now?” Roger asked sharply.

 

Paul glanced at his hand taking Brianna’s. “Yes, you may go and fuck all night for all I care.”

 

“Thanks, mate.”

 

“We should be careful around him.”

 

“I don’t care what he thinks,” Roger said, unlocking his door and moving aside to let Brianna in. “He doesn’t work for us.”

 

“I’ve got to go and unpack.”

 

“Oh, c’mon, love,” Roger hugged her from behind and pressed a kiss to the back of her neck. “We’ve got the day off.”

 

Brianna turned and felt her body getting closer to Roger as the drummer’s arms tightened their grip on her waist. “Rog…”

 

He quickly pressed a peck on her lips and she felt her legs wobbling.

 

It wasn’t the first kiss they shared, Brianna no longer knew why she let him do it; kiss her like this, quickly, rapidly before she could even complain. It all started that night in New York after Chris left. They weren’t drunk. They hadn’t smoked or taken anything. Brianna and Roger were well aware of what they were doing.

 

And ever since that night, they would always kiss. Though it was the drummer who always took the initiative, Brianna never stopped him, never complained, never said anything about it.

 

Brianna was actually looking forward to their moments alone, to them sneaking behind the stage, before a gig, or late at night before going each to their rooms to sleep.

 

It’s been a month and after countless pregnancy tests, Brianna wasn’t entirely sure why she felt relieved she wasn’t pregnant, when she and Chris had tried so much to conceive.

 

The guitarist knew she should stop and think what was going on. Why she was looking for Roger, craving for his touch, for his kisses, for everything that meant being with him. Brianna knew she should also ask herself why she was no longer looking forward to call her husband every night as she had been doing so ever since the tour in the US began. While she continued to religiously call him every night, their phone calls were quick now. Brianna barely said anything and let Chris tell her everything he’d been up to back in London. Then, she’d say she had to go, that they were late for dinner, for an interview, or that she was too tired.

 

Brianna knew she was betraying Chris. There was a thin line between pretending ‘not to care’ about Roger’s flirting, the kissing and the caresses and taking part in it. She had crossed the line. Many times.

 

And she enjoyed it. She craved his touch, his lips on hers, his soft breathing against her ear, his hands on her waist, on her hands, on her hips, on her thighs.

 

Brianna knew she was embarking on a journey she didn’t know where it’d take her.

 

And she seemed to like that journey.

 

“I need a bath.”

 

“Want me to scrub your back?” Roger asked with a wink.

 

There was still uncharted territory between them. And Brianna will be damned if she said she didn’t want to cross the ultimate boundary between them.

 

“Can I… Can I come and stay here?”

 

Brianna thought he would regret those words.

 

But she didn’t.

 

All she got was a nod.

 

As soon as she was in her room, she ran to the bathroom where she took off all her clothes and let the warm water run down her body. Brianna closed her eyes and let out a long sigh the moment she realised what she was about to do.

 

It didn’t surprise her that she seemed not to care about it.

 

…

 

 

It’d been two hours and Brianna hadn’t returned. Roger had taken a quick shower, shaved, checked himself and his hair dozens of times on the mirror before he decided to venture into her room.

 

It was easy to do it since their rooms were one right across the other. Freddie, Deacy and Paul’s were on the floor above. They didn’t have to hide from anyone.

 

Wait, were they hiding themselves?

 

What were they truly hiding?

 

And from whom?

 

Ever since their kiss in New York, Roger noticed Brianna was closer to him. The moment he decided to kiss her, he knew she was probably going to slap him, tell him to fuck off or probably kicking him out the band.

 

But she didn’t. Roger had watched how she closed her eyes the moment he leaned in closer and finally kissed her. Brianna didn’t reject him. And from that moment on, she accepted his kisses. Though she never kissed him back, she was there, waiting for him to lean in against her and do it.

 

Roger was aware of his touchy nature, and while he found himself wanting to touch her more and more, he also found her wanting to be touched. It was obvious. They always sat together during flights and car rides. Their hotel rooms were one next to the other. They went out for breakfast and sometimes for a drink or two after a gig. He would take her hand before going to the stage and she would press a kiss to his cheek before stepping out and meeting the crowds of people which seemed to grow more and more with the passing of time.

 

Roger had noticed she was also becoming more and more touchy. Her hands would always be on his shoulders or his arms.

 

Brianna was not talking to Chris as much as she used to.

 

It was Roger the first person to learn Brianna had not got pregnant despite trying for a baby so much. The drummer didn’t tell her he was happy she wasn’t expecting a child. But he did feel happy.

 

It seemed Brianna was happy too. Though she didn’t say it, it was late one night when she decided to drink with him. She said she had bought three different pregnancy tests and all were negative.

 

“Sometimes I think there must be a reason why I lost that baby and couldn’t conceive one this time.”

 

“Why d’you think that?”

 

“Dunno,” her eyes were on her drink. “Probably it’s not the right time.”

 

 _Or he’s not the right man_ , Roger thought.

 

Roger still didn’t know why he took to kiss her, why she never said anything, why she closed her eyes every time he did it. He did it because she never kissed him. She never took the initiative and she never told him to stop. Brianna even tilted her head when they found themselves alone and he was cupping her face with both hands.

 

They were merely pecks on the lips. They weren’t even proper kisses. But Brianna’s lips always tasted sweet.

 

He knocked at her door and waited. As soon as he heard her voice telling him it was open, he got in, locking the door behind his back.

 

And there she was. There was Brianna, standing by the window with her guitar. She was wearing a long white oversized t-shirt, so long it reached her mid thighs and no trousers. Her hair seemed to be slightly damp. She was barefoot.

 

She was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.

 

“I was waiting for you, love.”

 

“I’ve… I’ve got this idea for a song,” Brianna said softly, as she started playing her guitar. The tune was good, Roger thought. He thought of some cymbals here, his toms there, but could go no further if she had no lyrics yet.

 

_Let us cling together as the years go by_

_Oh my love, my love_

_In the quiet of the night_

_Let our candle always burn_

_Let us never lose the lessons we have learned_

 

“That’s all I have. Perhaps I could show Freddie this. See what we can do. I was thinking we could, you know, maybe have this part translated into Japanese.”

 

Roger frowned. “Where did this come from, huh?”

 

She shrugged. She placed her beloved guitar on the armchair close to the window and fixed her gaze on the landscape. From her window, she could see the sun setting, the lights of the Japanese city turning on. It was breathtaking.

 

“They loved us before England knew who we were. We were no one when we first came here, remember? And yet they were all crazy about us,” Brianna chuckled as she crossed her arms on against her chest. “And now they stole our shoes at the airport!”

 

Brianna felt Roger’s hands on her waist and his chin on her shoulder. When she leaned backwards, she could feel his chest pressed against her back. They were in comfy silence for a moment, just the two of them gazing the sky, watching the sun disappear.

 

“Do you think it’s wrong if I want you to kiss me?”

 

Roger said nothing. He pressed a kiss to her cheek and then moved downwards to her exposed neck. He noticed, as he moved down, that she was wearing no bra under her t-shirt.

 

“D’you want me to kiss you, love?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“But I always kiss you.”

 

“I want you to, ah…” she literally moaned when she felt his lips sucking that sensitive spot under her ear. His hands were on her stomach and her hipbones. “Kiss me properly, Rog.”

 

They were about to cross the line. Both knew nothing would ever be the same if they did it. There was no coming back from taking that step.

 

But little did Brianna care.

 

She turned to face him and closed her eyes as she felt those pair of lips against her again. But this time she opened her mouth to let him in.

 

Brianna threw her arms around his neck as Roger took two steps forwards until he had her pressed against the windows. The kiss was needy, passionate. It was the kind of kiss Brianna was craving for. When she moaned into his lips, Roger’s hands moved to her lower back. He could not press her against him anymore. As he felt himself hardening, he knew she must be feeling him through the fabric of his jeans.

 

It was the guitarist who broke the kiss. They looked into their eyes for long seconds until he felt her fingers working on his t-shirt, undoing the buttons so slowly he thought he might die. They never broke the eye contact. Not even when his t-shirt was gone and now she was unbuckling his belt and taking care of his jeans.

 

This was really happening.

 

This was not a dream. Roger was one hundred percent sure the woman had had just kissed and who was undressing him right now was Brianna and this was definitely not a dream. And he could confirm it when Brianna started undoing the buttons of her own t-shirt.

 

Roger stood there, in silence, watching that oversized t-shirt falling to the floor and a very naked Brianna standing there, in front of him. As his eyes took her in, he realised she was not the woman he had imagined all these years. The naked Brianna in his dreams was nothing like the real Brianna.

 

The real Brianna was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. And there she was, naked, looking at him and asking him to make love to her.

 

“I know this is wrong,” she whispered, as she closed the space between their naked bodies. “but this is what I want.”

 

It was somewhat magical, from an outer world. Everything seemed to have been set up, as in a film. The light was minimal, there was no sound, there was no one around to stop what was going to happen.

 

And what was going to happen was changing the course of their lives forever.

 

But they just didn’t know it. Not yet. And they will probably not realise the implications of their actions until it was too late to do something about it.

 

Roger, always the cocky bastard, took advantage of the moment. He grinned and, as his strong arms took her and led her to the bed, he winked at her. “And what do you want?”

 

“I want you to, ah…” she moaned softly as her body fell on the bed, and the drummer on to of her. She opened her legs to give him more room, and soon felt his erection close to her core. “I want you to make love to me, Rog.”

 

_Make love._

 

“You cannot imagine for how long…” The drummer whispered as he started exploring her body with his mouth and his fingers. He took one nipple into his mouth and sucked. “for how long I’ve been waiting to hear you say…” Roger played with her mouth on her breasts as his fingers teased the most intimate part of her body. “those words.”

 

“I can’t, ah, ah yes…” she moaned the moment she felt Roger’s hands between her legs and his mouth kissing and sucking at every spot between her neck and her stomach. “I can’t imagine. Tell me, Rog.”

 

He chuckled the moment his mouth was now so close to her core. Just by touching, kissing her, sucking her she was already wet. He wondered how much she could get once he tasted her down there.

 

“Since I met you.”

 

“Really?” She was now leaning on her elbows. Her eyes met Roger’s, who was licking and sucking at the insides of her thighs. “That was… almost ten years ago.”

 

“Think of all the times we could’ve made love in all those ten years.”

 

“Stop teasing, Rog.”

 

“Whatever you say.”

 

Brianna threw her head back the moment she felt his tongue in her core. His hands were on her hips, trying to keep her steady as he worked on her folds, sucked at the right places and felt her come.

 

“Rog, oh god, Rog, yes… yes, I’m about to… I’m coming.”

 

And she did.

 

The drummer felt her relax once she had come. He climbed on top of her again and kissed her deeply, taking his sweet time to explore her mouth with his and the rest of her with his calloused hands.

 

Many unexpected things were happening. Things he wasn’t ready for. Things he had only dreamt of.

 

So Brianna surprised him when she pushed him until he was on his back and she was on top. She chuckled loudly the moment her hands found his erection and gave it a soft squeeze.

 

And Brianna chuckled the moment she felt Roger melt under her touch.

 

“You’re so good, love.”

 

“Am I?”

 

“Yes.”

 

Without a warning, if it was ever needed, Roger felt her lips around his throbbing member. He looked up and met her eyes. As her mouth focused on the tip of his cock, her hands were on the base and on his balls.

 

It was the sexiest sight in the world. Brianna was bobbing her head when he drummer let out the filthiest moans Brianna had ever heard.

 

“God, your mouth, Bri.”

 

It encouraged her, but Roger had to make her stop.

 

“Come ‘ere.”

 

Brianna was crawling back to him and stopped until she was straddling his hips. And there she was, with both palms on his chest, moving herself, rubbing her core against his hard member and smiling at him.

 

The smile was like no other Roger had seen before.

 

“Rog…”

 

“What… ah, what is it, Bri?”

 

“I need you, Rog,” Brianna whispered to his ear. “Make love to me.”

 

With a quick movement, he made them roll until she was on her back and he was between her long legs. She kissed him one last time before he entered her. The drummer teased her more, rubbing the head against her folds, making her melt under his touch.

 

No one had so far stopped to think of contraception. Roger didn’t realise Brianna was not wearing her wedding ring, but the silver ring he had given her a couple of days ago, before leaving the States, the one that she was now wearing on her pinky finger. As they didn’t stop to think it was dinner time and that Deacy and Freddie were probably waiting for them.

 

“You love teasing me, don’t you?”

 

Roger grinned and slowly entered her. As he did so, he watched Brianna letting out a long sigh and frowning. She was no virgin, but he was bigger than average and he knew it. So he stopped until she nodded and then went all the way in, until he knew he was completely inside her.

 

“God, you’re big.”

 

“Told you many times before, love.”

 

She opened her eyes and kissed him softly. “Just do it, Rog.”

 

He started moving in and out slowly, giving her time to adjust to his size and giving himself some time to feel her warm walls around him. For what seemed like an eternity, he moved in and out, watched her melting under him and moaning incoherent things.

 

It wasn’t until he felt her hands on her biceps that he looked into her eyes. “Harder, Rog, please.”

 

Now this was like his dreams. The bed was making strange noises and the headboard was hitting the board with each of his thrusts. And with each of his movements, he heard Brianna panting and moaning his name.

 

“Yes, there, Rog, ah…” She threw her head back as she felt Roger hitting that particular spot inside her and his mouth on her breasts. “Ah, yes, oh my god, yes.”

 

“Bri… you feel, so good, ah.”

 

“Do… I?”

 

“Yes.”

 

The moment Roger felt her hands on his shoulders, he understood. He let them maneuver them until he was again on his back and she was straddling his hips. When she started riding him into the mattress, Roger lost track of time. He no longer knew where she was or what they were doing meant.

 

All he could think of was that the woman on top of him was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

 

Every time her thighs and his hips met, it felt different. Everything about her felt different. The way she kissed him, how she looked at him, how her breasts bounced rhythmically, how she moved her hips to make him see the stars…

 

It was when their eyes met that he realised he loved her.

 

_Roger knew he loved Brianna._

 

He had always loved her.

 

And he was probably going to love her for the rest of his life.

 

The drummer let her do what felt right, what she needed to feel the pleasure she wanted. His eyes never left hers. His grip on her hips was tight, tight enough he started to see some marks on her pale skin.

 

“Rog, I’m close.”

 

“Me too, love.”

 

She came first and he followed her right away. Brianna cried his name when she came, and Roger knew he was going to remember that moment until the day he died because the moment she came and fell on his arms, that was the moment she probably realised _she was in love with him._

 

Always had. Always will be.

 

 

The drummer kissed her neck, her shoulders, her collarbone. She was still catching her breath when he pulled out of her and watched wincing. “You okay, love?”

 

“You’re big. I can get used to it.”

 

She was resting her head on his chest. Soon he had a hand on her back and the other was taking her hand. They laced their fingers when he stopped breathing and went back to her words.

 

That was also the moment he realised she wasn’t wearing her wedding ring.

 

“I want you, Bri.”

 

She looked up and the moment their eyes met, he saw love.

 

Brianna also saw love in his blue eyes.

 

But neither was ready to say it out loud.

 

They had crossed the line. There was no more uncharted territory. Brianna closed her eyes knowing fully well what she had done, what she was going to do, and its implications. It didn’t surprise her the fact that she didn’t feel remorse. Her chest was filled with a sense of contentment. This is what she wanted, she had said it.

 

And she truly believed it.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope it wasn't too awkward. This is my first experience writing a sex scene.  
> Sadly, I won't be able to update for a couple of days because the hubby and I are moving. But I'll be back soon, promise!  
> What d'you guys think is gonna happen now? Will Bri continue whatever she has with Roger? Will she regret it? Will they tell Freddie and Deacy what's going on?  
> Remember you can come and visit me myfourmisfits.tumblr.com feel free to come and say hi, drop a questions, whatever. 
> 
> Thank you for reading!


	19. What are we?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Too much love will kill you  
> If you can't make up your mind  
> Torn between the lover  
> And the love you leave behind  
> You're headed for disaster  
> 'Cause you never read the signs  
> Too much love will kill you - every time."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who's been reading, leaving a comment, kuddos and following this.   
> Remember not to share this fic with any of the people mentioned, thanks.

_Japan, 1977_

 

 

Brianna woke up to the feeling of warm lips on her shoulder. She opened and closed her eyes a few times until she realised where she was and who was lying next to her on her bed. She let out a long sigh and stretched her legs and, as she did so, closed her eyes again. She felt tired, her body heavy somewhat.

 

Every hope of going back to sleep vanished the moment she felt the drummer’s weight on top of her and a trail of kisses on her neck and chest.

 

“Morning.”

 

“‘m tired, Rog.”

 

“You didn’t say so last night,” Roger winked at her. He felt comfortable the moment the guitarist wrapped her long legs around his hips. “I want you, love.”

 

Brianna moaned the moment he felt Roger’s lips on her breasts, sucking at her nipples, giving little squeezes with the hand that wasn’t teasing the most intimate part of her body. “Rog…”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“We should… ah.” Brianna tightened her grip on his strong biceps the moment he felt his already hard member teasing her entrance. “We should get up. You got to go to your room. We got the photoshoot.”

 

Roger stopped only to kiss her lips. “I just want to make love to you. But,” he whispered, his face softening, his tone serious. “We’re not doing anything you don’t want to do.”

 

To his surprise (because he still couldn’t believe they were lying naked on her bed), Brianna gave him a little smile and kissed his lips. Her smile was tender. It was a new smile, one she had never given him before. It was a smile that he didn’t know yet, but will never grow tired of.

 

“I don’t want you to go.” She pulled him closer by moving her hands to his shoulder blades and pulling him down for a kiss. “I want us to _never_ leave this bed.”

 

Roger’s eyes lit up as her words sank in. He wondered to what extent she meant those words. If that _never_ applied to their tour or to their lives.

 

Her words brought up Chris to his mind, but the drummer soon put those thoughts away when he felt her hips moving encouragingly. “I want you to make love to me.”

 

His blue eyes never left hers as he sank into her. Roger moved slowly, lazily. They were in no hurry. He watched her melting underneath him, moaning, making beautiful little sounds only for him. The drummer felt her hands moving up and down his spine, softly caressing his skin.

 

Roger wanted the moment to last forever. Be there with her in that bed forever. He wanted to be able to treasure the feelings. It seemed the night before and now that everything felt ten times better with Brianna. The drummer was certain no one had ever kissed him, touched him and made him feel like this.

 

She started pulling at his golden locks and Roger knew she was close. He was too.

 

The moment she tried changing their position, Roger took her hand and laced his fingers with hers. “I want to see your face.”

 

Both were overwhelmed by waves of pleasure the moment they came together. Brianna cried his name and he was determined to hear her again and again and again forever.

 

Brianna’s legs loosened around his hips. They were still catching their breath when Roger pressed his lips to her neck and fell on top of her. She hugged him, locking her arms around his neck, pressing him tightly against her, realising his weight felt comfortable on top of her body.

 

The guitarist was certain no man had made her feel this way.

 

He pulled out and looked at her face. “You okay?”

 

“Yes,” she squeezed his shoulder and kissed him one last time before making her way from  underneath him and getting her silky robe which lay on the floor. “we’ll need to get some condoms.”

 

“About that… you fine?”

 

“Yeah. I’m not near those days,” she clarified with a heavy blush on her cheeks. They hadn’t used protection and it was too late to worry about that, but she was confident she wasn’t even in her fertile days. “You should go to your room.”

 

“We could shower together.”

 

“We could, but…” she glanced at her watch. “you’d better go back to your room before Paul comes to fetch us.” Brianna insisted.

 

Roger sighed and closed his eyes. It was bad she was telling him to leave, and worse she had to mention his name. When he thought they were finally getting rid of him, Freddie had to hire him as his PA and now the Irishman was everywhere with them. Although they had little interaction with him, Paul was still useful sometimes. He had managed to book them rooms in the best hotels in every city they’d visited and knew how to handle the press when they were too annoying.

 

Still, his mere presence made Roger want to push him down the stairs, sometimes. And make it look like an accident, obviously.

 

He had put on his jeans and picked up his t-shirt when Brianna pushed him against the door and was now furiously kissing.

 

“Sure you don’t wanna daddy Rog to scrub your back?”

 

She laughed as she opened the door for him. Before letting him out, she took a cautious look both ways of the corridor, making herself sure there was no one around to see Roger leaving her room in such state of undress.

 

“I want daddy to go to his room,” she whispered, earning a satisfactory grin from the drummer.

 

He was trying to pull at her robe and kiss her neck. “Daddy wants to stay with his baby girl.”

 

“Ugh, Rog. It just sounds too creepy.”

 

“No, it doesn’t! You’re not even trying.”

 

“Go.”

 

“One last kiss?”

 

Brianna laughed at his puppy eyes and complied. “Fine.”

 

There was the drummer, two steps away from his room, pressing Brianna against her door, both two engrossed in their kissing to see Paul Prenter was round the corner, more than a few feet away from them. The man stopped on his tracks, looked at the scene in silence until they broke apart.

 

…

 

They hadn’t discussed what had happened, if it was going to continue, or how to handle it. But it was silently agreed they were not telling Freddie or Deacy and that they were going to behave as usual.

 

 _As usual_ meant Roger was still openly flirting with her and occasionally resting a hand on her thighs when they sat together. He kept his touchy nature, Brianna played the ‘I don’t mind’ card, unaware of the knowing looks coming from Prenter.  The days in Japan passed by very quickly.

 

Every day, they would have breakfast all together, rehearse, discuss the songs that had been coming up with ever since touring. Freddie and Brianna, as always, had already collected quite the stack of papers and napkins with some complete and unfinished lyrics, stanzas, names for songs and so on to work on as soon as they finished the tour.

 

Then, they’d have lunch and rest before their shows at night.

 

It was after their shows, and when they were taken back to the hotel, that Roger spent every single night of the Japanese leg of the tour in Brianna’s room. Her mattress was better than his, he said, as well as her shower and her windows and the landscape.

 

They were never too tired after a show. Every night, Roger felt like a teenager again, sneaking from his room to get to the one across, where the guitarist was already waiting for him, sometimes naked under the covers of her bed, sometimes leaning against her window wearing nothing but that dark silky robe he loved so much.

 

They had even tried the daddy thing and Brianna was too convincing when the drummer asked her if she liked it. She did, but not as much as him. However, Brianna found herself doing it only to please him.

 

“Have you packed your things?” Brianna asked him the night before leaving Japan. She was leaning against her window wearing nothing but her underwear.

 

Behind her, with a hand on her hip bone and another on the curve of her waist was Roger, pressing a trail of kisses between her shoulder and neck.

 

“What are we doing when the tour ends?” He had been meaning to ask her ever since that night when she undressed them both and said she wanted him. Night after night, and some mornings too, immediately after making love, Roger would look into her eyes and try and gather some courage. He feared her answer. The drummer feared that asking would just make her regret whatever they had and shared in her room. “What are we, Bri?"

 

Brianna said nothing for a moment. She leaned back against him the moment she felt his lips on her skin again. The hand on her hip bone was slowly making its way inside her lacy underwear and she, as tired as she was after five interviews, countless photoshoots, a show on their last day in Japan and having made love to Roger, she was not rejecting his touch or its outcome.

 

But as the drummer, Brianna also feared thinking what would be of them once the tour ended and had to go back to England. Deep inside, she knew she had made a decision the night they had sex for the first time. While composing that afternoon, when looking at the landscape, the tall buildings, the busy people on the streets, the idea struck Brianna.

 

Just as the lyrics came to her, the realisation that she was probably in love with the drummer came to her and shook her like a thunder. The gold band on her wedding finger reminded her she belonged to someone else. There was Chris miles away from her, patiently waiting for her, sending her letters sometimes, every night telling her how much he loved her and missed her.

 

It wasn’t fair for him. It wasn’t fair for Roger.

 

And yet, there they were. Leaning against a window, Roger already too eager. Herself already too drunk with his being. The drummer had a particular way of loving her. There was something about his hands, calloused, sometimes wounded from his drumming, that drove her crazy the moment she felt them on her body.

 

There was something else about him that made her feel drunk, as if she had drunk all the alcohol of the world: his eyes. Roger always insisted on looking at her face when they about to climax. Something inside her exploded the moment her eyes looked into his, into those deep blue orbs. It gave her a feeling of contentment.

 

She felt safe in his arms afterwards. No matter how they slept, waking up and finding herself in his arms made her feel complete.

 

They still had a month before heading back home.

 

Brianna knew she still have time to think.

 

Despite already knowing the answer, Brianna didn’t dare telling Rog.

 

“I love you, Bri.”

 

When she didn’t turn to face him, the drummer placed his strong hands on her hips and pressed himself against her. “Always have. Always will.”

 

She listened in silence. Brianna felt something blossoming inside.

 

But she still didn’t dare telling him the truth.

 

“You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, love.”

 

“Rog…”

 

“Don’t tell me.” Roger was no facing her. He cupped her face and kissed her passionately, as if their lives depended on that kiss. “Don’t tell me what you’re still not ready to tell me.”

 

Brianna had little tears in her eyes as she watched the drummer putting on his clothes and leaving the room.

 

…

 

“So, what do you think?”

 

Freddie scanned again the lyrics. It was damn good. Everything Brianna wrote was good. She had even attached a music sheet. As he lifted his finger and moved it on the air, imagining a bass, her guitar, a solo here or there, Roger’s cymbals and tombs.

 

It was a masterpiece.

 

“You wrote ‘man’” Freddie said, a frown between his eyes. “ _I’m just the pieces of the man I used to be’_ ” He quoted and looked up to meet her. “I thought you’d sing it.”

 

“I want _you_ to sing it.”

 

“Why? You’ve got a lovely voice. This suits you more.”

 

Brianna said nothing.

 

“I know, darling.” Freddie whispered softly, taking one of her hands into his own. “You thought I wouldn’t see it?”

 

“We don’t want the band dynamics to change or – “

 

“Let it go to hell, Bri,” Freddie smiled at her, sensing her discomfort. “You think that being in a relationship with Rog will fuck up the band? Darling, you’ve been pinning for each other since we became Queen and look how far we’ve got.”

 

Brianna watched Freddie smiling. God, how much she loved that man.

 

“What’s troubling you, darling?”

 

Having no one to talk about this wasn’t made her open up to Freddie. It was his loyalty, the strong friendship they shared that made Brianna choose Freddie for this task that was, as her song said, make up her mind when she was torn between her lover and the love she was leaving behind.

 

“I… I can’t do this to Chris. I can’t hurt him like this.” She sobbed the moment her husband came to his mind. All sort of memories came back, all of a sudden. The day the met, their first date, their first kiss, their first time together, their wedding, their honeymoon. The baby she had lost and the days they spent in New york trying for one. She had even pictured a boy, a little boy. She had chosen a name, told Chris and kissed him the moment she said she wanted them to be a family.

 

Where was that Brianna now? What had made her realise she had feelings for Roger? And just a little more than a month after daydreaming about becoming a mother with Chris?

 

“So you’re going back to him? Because that’s the right thing to do? Darling, the only right thing to do here is to follow your heart.”

 

The moment her eyes fell on her wedding finger and found no gold band but a shade of the ring she hadn’t worn for a long time by now made her cry even more. “It’s not fair for him.”

 

“What’s not gonna be fair for him will be telling him you love him when you know it’s not true.” The singer felt like crying himself. “Tell me, Bri. Are you gonna stay with him and be miserable forever only to spare him? Or are you gonna face the truth, darling? You know you love Goldilocks,” Freddie winked at her and made her smile. “And he loves you. Always has. Believe me. Saw it the first time I met you, actually.”

 

“I… Freddie, I’ve already taken a decision.” She said softly. “But I can’t help but feel like shit about it.”

 

The singer squeezed her hand softly. “Embrace what makes you happy, Bri. Only when you do it, you’ll feel free.”

 

His words caused a profound impact on her. Brianna’s eyes were on his the moment he seemed to be struggling between telling her something.

 

But Freddie gave her a smile, a cheeky smile. “What have you got to lose, huh?”

 

She smiled back. “Nothing.”

 

“Then go for it, darling.”

 

“Thanks, Fred.”

 

“You’re most welcome, darling. You’d better make me one of your bridesmaids when you and Rog marry.”

 

Brianna laughed. “I don’t think Rog’s the marrying type.”

 

“Ah, you never know, dear.”

 

“You know what? The song… forget it.”

 

“Keep it.” Freddie urged her, handing her the piece of paper back. “I feel this song will see the light of the day, some day.”

 

“Probably.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... Bri's torn between Chris and Rog... though I feel she's more torn between what's the right thing to do and what her heart wants... y'all know what she's choosing, right? 
> 
> A friend came round, and while discussing this she said "You remember Brian has his first child in 1978, right?" (she's helped me doing some research) Ah, I can't help but wonder what I want to do, made Bri and Rog have a child or let them record and tour some more. 
> 
> I'll be covering what we see in the film, so we'll have some time jump soon. 
> 
> Finally moved! And have the best internet connection in the world!
> 
> Remember you can come and visit me at myfourmisfits.tumblr.com come say hello! We can discuss this fic if you want or drop me some ideas. 
> 
> Loving all your comments and kuddos, they make me smile :)


	20. With you I feel complete

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And Brianna smiled, remembering the words Freddie had said. 
> 
> Embrace what makes you happy. Only when you do it, you’ll feel free. 
> 
> This is what she wanted. Roger was the man she loved and wanted to spend the rest of her life with. She was embracing him and while doing so, she felt free.

_April, 1977._

 

 

“Yes, it’s… lovely, yes. No, we’re just having dinner now.” Brianna turned, and when she did so, she met Roger’s gaze on her. Everyone else was just too occupied with their food and drinks. Freddie was laughing so hard he was about to cry, and Deacy was all smiles. “Listen, Chris, I’ve got to go… No,  nothing’s wrong… We’re just having dinner, Freddie’s.... No, I swear, I’m okay… I’m just a bit tired after the flight… I’m not avoiding you… Chris, we’ve talked about this… I’m just tired, okay?... I… What? No… No, Chris… Chris? Hello?”

 

Brianna hung the phone and ran both hands over her face, tiredly. Her tiredness wasn’t physical, but emotional. For almost a week Chris took to call her twice, sometimes three times a day. He called and said he’d missed her, that he’d been thinking about her, that he’d seen a house he liked and wanted to know her opinion.

 

It made her remember how much she used to miss him, how much she longed to hear his voice in the distance, calling her name so sweetly, telling her how much he loved her.

 

Now she could hardly stand the long phone calls. It was getting harder every time to sustain a conversation with him. Brianna was running out of excuses and Chris out of patience. It was excruciating to listen to him making plans, talking about the houses he had been looking at, the furniture he had come across when going shopping, the number of rooms they would need, one to keep his books and a desk, another one for her and her guitars, two or three for their children…

 

Brianna refused to share this with Roger. The drummer never asked, directly, but subtly, when they were nothing else but naked bodies and tangled limbs, Roger would ask her how she felt about them.

 

“I feel happy when I’m with you,” Brianna whispered. “complete.”

 

Roger wanted to hear more. He knew she had more to say. Much more. But it wasn’t the right time, and probably she wasn’t ready to tell him how she truly felt. Deep inside, Roger knew their time together sharing dreams, songs, caresses, kisses, love, all that could end the moment they took a flight back to England.

 

Brianna never said she loved him. But there was love behind those eyes Roger looked at and got lost in the moment he sunk into her. The way she took his hands into hers, pressed kisses to his callouses, his drumming wounds, and said he was the most talented man she’d ever met.

 

Neither stopped for a moment to think what was happening the moment their tour ended and went back to England.

 

“You alright, love?”

 

Brianna faked a smile and hid her face behind her drink. “Yeah.” She took her seat again next to the drummer and across John.

The bassist’s smile disappeared. He focused on his friend and the way Roger’s hand seemed to find its familiar spot on her thigh. His hand was moving up and down, soothingly. While Freddie shouted at the waiters and asked for another round and more food, Deacy was the only one who watched Roger’s inquisitive blue eyes were on her, his arm soon found a place around her shoulders, and the moment she leaned in, his lips found hers.

 

They had apparently forgotten they were having dinner with other people, because Brianna quickly pulled away and her eyes met Deacy’s.

 

Deacy’s smile didn’t falter. He assured them dinner was to be served soon.

 

Their dinner didn’t go as uneventful as they thought it would. Freddie barely ate, but instead drank his weight on alcohol and kept on telling the waiters he loved their accent. In his drunk state, he winked at one and told him where he was staying. Roger, Brianna and John laughed, but it was Brianna the one who knew what was happening.

 

Freddie wasn’t taking the piss, or pulling their legs, but rather being himself. The alcohol helped him loosen up, but the guitarist had seen men getting into Freddie’s rooms and backstage where Freddie would get ready before a show.

 

The words he had said had made a profound impact on her. _Embrace what makes you happy. Only when you do it, you’ll feel free._

 

Brianna knew there was a reason why Freddie asked Mary to look after their business in the UK and didn’t invite her to join their tour. While it was an unspoken rule they were not ratting out each other - first because that’s not what you do to a friend – betrayal – they had seen Freddie openly flirting with women and taking them to his rooms when they used to support Mott the Hoople. And now Brianna had seen men making their way into Freddie’s rooms and the singer was openly flirting with them.

 

None ever stopped to talk about it. None cared enough to pin down or give Freddie’s latest conquests a name. They were best friends – considered themselves a family – but none would ever dare question Freddie and his sex life. Or what was it that he was doing.

 

Just as no one questioned Brianna and Roger’s involvement.

 

So that same night, when Roger asked John if he wanted to go out for a smoke, the drummer realised Deacy had known all along.

 

After a moment of silence, in which Roger’s blue eyes would go from Deacy back to the views the Australian city had to offer, John was the one who brought it up, sensing his friend’s hesitation.

 

“You don’t need to explain anything.”

 

Roger looked at Deacy as if he didn’t know what the bassist was talking about. Did he really…?

 

“I know you and Bri are… “

 

“Fucking?”

 

“I was gonna say _together_ ,” Deacy rolled his eyes. “She’s like a sister to me, you know. No one really likes to think of their sister shagging.”

 

Roger grinned. “I forgot we were with you when we kissed.”

 

Deacy threw the last of his ciggie to the floor and stepped on it before taking another one. “Oh, I knew you were together before you guys kissed.”

 

“Are we that obvious?”

 

“ _You_ are.”

 

Rather than going on what Roger didn’t want to think about just yet, the drummer kept Deacy bussy by asking him if he had talked to Ronnie, how was she doing, how was little Robert, and so on. As they leaned on the railing of the balcony, Roger watched with how much tenderness and a sense of longing Deacy talked about his family. How much he loved Ronnie, how much he wanted to see his son, how much he missed them.

 

It made Roger wonder if one day there would be a little one he would die to go back to, a child he could raise and spoil and take on tour with him. A child who could inherit Brianna’s wild curls and tenderness.

 

The drummer knew Brianna wanted to be a mother. But as time passed by, her future was uncertain, and Roger knew she was torn between what she wanted and what was the proper thing to do.

 

Brianna had been raised to marry a man, become a housewife and possibly a mother. The moment she announced she was studying in London, her parents were proud, because they knew she was from another generation of women who had careers and could make their way in the world. Then, she said she was making music and was in a band. While Mr May said it was surely a nice hobby both him and his wife were unaware Brianna was already living with a man, was no longer a virgin, liked to have beers and drinks with her bandmates and dreamed of becoming a rockstar.

 

The day Queen started to slowly take off and when she married, the Mays were expecting she’d drop off the band, settle down, become a housewife to her husband and have babies. But three days after the wedding she was touring Japan and the States, leaving her husband behind, only to play in an all-men band.

 

Mr May was sceptical. He didn’t believe Queen was big until he saw their records being sold, watched his daughter performing on _Top of The Pops_ and listened to youngsters on the streets saying Queen was amazing.

 

Now they’d tour the whole world. Brianna had told Roger one morning she’d a terrible nightmare in which her parents were turning their backs on her and never talking to her for having an affair, for cheating on her husband. For being what she knew they’d call her – _indecent_.

 

“Dropping my PhD was already a disappointment.” Brianna said softly, as if she’d only wanted him to hear it. “Not becoming a housewife was another. I can’t help but wonder what’d they think if they knew about this.”

 

Roger reminded her her parents were people raised differently, who of course expected her to become a housewife, maybe have an office job, bear children - be “normal”.

 

But apart from what Brianna’s parents represented, there were far pressing issues: Chris Mullen.

 

“What about Chris?”

 

Roger said nothing for a moment. He knew how much Deacy appreciated the lawyer. They were good friends, Chris had helped Deacy with the paperwork the day he bought himself and Ronnie a house. They usually went out for drinks when Chris used to join their tours and Roger also knew Ronnie was close to the lawyer.

 

“I don’t know. We don’t talk about him.”

 

“Bri hasn’t talked to him?”

 

The drummer shook his head. “Says she can’t tell him over the phone.”

 

“Right.”

 

“I don’t really know we’re we going, Deacs,” Roger admitted. “Sometimes I feel this will be… over before we go back to England.”

 

Deacy felt distress in his friend’s voice. “Why are you saying that?”

 

“I know she loves me… but she hasn’t said it. I have. I love her more than anything, Deacy. I swear I’d stop drumming and go back to dentistry if she asked me.”

 

John knew how much Roger loved drumming and how much he’d hated studying dentistry. If he was saying that it was because he was truly and madly in love with the guitarist. Deacy smiled a bit because he knew Roger had always been head over heels in love with Brianna.

 

“Why you smiling?”

 

“You’ve always been in love with her,” Deacy explained him. He watched as Roger’s concerned expression softened a little. “Though I wasn’t so sure if it was lust or love.”

 

“Oh, that too. She’s incredibly hot.”

 

“Bri’s beautiful, yeah.”

 

“I prefer _incredibly hot._ ”

 

Deacy rolled his eyes. “I’d told you she’s like a sister to me, remember?”

 

“I know.”

 

“Good. So don’t go about her tits or something like that.”

 

“I would never.”

 

“Good.”

 

They sat together on the balcony, cigarettes long forgotten on the floor. Deacy was telling Roger about the few sounds and rhythms he had come up with during the tour when Brianna appeared.

 

She was about to say something when Roger took her hand and made her fall on his lap. The drummer was kissing her face when she pushed him off her.

 

“Rog!”

 

“What?” He faked a hurt expression. “Don’t wanna give daddy a kiss?”

 

Deacy almost choked. “Fuck you, guys.”

 

Brianna looked into Roger’s eyes and he nodded. _It’s okay. He knows._

 

“Sorry, John.”

 

“Don’t tell me you call him daddy.”

 

“I don’t,” Brianna assured him. “So, what are you up to?”

 

“Just smoking. How’s Fred?”

 

Brianna smiled. “Better, I think. Paul said he was taking care of him.”

 

“Hmm.”

 

Deacy stood up and stretched his arms. “Going to bed. See you in the morning.”

 

Brianna and Roger watched the bassist leaving the room. As soon as the door was closed, Brianna attacked Roger’s lips. She threw her arms around his neck, bringing him closer still. The drummer’s left hand found its place under her t-shirt, on her lower back, and his right was on her breasts, pinching her nipples and making her moan a little against his lips.

 

“Thought you were tired.” Roger said, almost breathless, breaking the kiss only to look into her hazel eyes.

 

They soon moved from the balcony to his room. This time they were needy. It was slightly warm, but Roger soon found himself sweating as much as he did every time he played his drums. Brianna was being demanding, rough. She was kissing him so hard he knew his lips were going to be bruised the following day.

 

They tried new positions and found one in which Brianna could feel Roger completely. She was loud the moment he sank into her and even louder when she told him to do it fast and harder. Then, Brianna was pushing him down onto the mattress and riding him. Roger thought he was dying right there. He sat and helped her move up and down by placing both hands on her hips. When she came she said his name. She hugged him tightly and finally said it.

 

“I need to tell you something."

 

In two weeks they were going back to London and the weight on Roger’s shoulder disappeared. The bad feelings he had about going back home, going back to London, Freddie to Mary, John to Ronnie, himself to… no one really, and finally Brianna to Chris vanished. He thought he might be dreaming. The Brianna straddling his hips could be the Brianna he had seen in his dreams.

 

But apparently, she wasn’t.

 

“I want to tell you something, Rog."

 

"Me too, love.”

 

She smiled at him. Lovingly, he pulled the curls off her forehead and face and kissed her sweaty cheeks, her nose, her lips, tasting himself on them.

 

“I love you, Brianna May. Do you love me?”

 

“I love you, Roger Taylor. Always have.”

 

He really hoped she wasn’t aware of the little tears in his eyes. The room was dark. Yes, she possibly didn’t realise he wanted to cry.

 

“Always have, Rog,” Brianna’s thumbs cleaned the tears rolling down his cheeks. “Always will.”

 

From that moment on, Roger felt the happiest man on earth. Queen could record a new album, a very shitty one, people could stop buying their records, they could stop touring, they could become no one, he could lose his arms, never drum again, but he had Brianna. And she loved him. That was all he needed.

 

And Brianna smiled, remembering the words Freddie had said. _Embrace what makes you happy. Only when you do it, you’ll feel free._ This is what she wanted. Roger was the man she loved and wanted to spend the rest of her life with. She was embracing him and while doing so, she felt free.

 

The windows were open. It was warm, and from her place on his lap, Brianna watched the stars shine. Such sight always caught her eye. In every city they’d stopped, Brianna watched the stars at night and wondered where life would take her next.

 

And so the moment Roger pulled himself out, she felt his warm seed inside her. He took her into his arms and she closed her eyes the moment she rested her head on his chest and felt his heart beating. The drummer fell asleep quickly, clearly tired after the flight and their lovemaking.

 

His heartbeats, the stars, and the realisation she was near _those days_ made a profound impact on her.  Brianna didn’t believe in coincidences.

 

But that night she did.

 

She did because on the same night she had been strong enough to embrace her happiness, confess her feelings to the Roger, she knew they had also taken a step into the life she hoped they would share together until the day they died.

 

…

 

“Ready?”

 

Brianna nodded. She looked down at her hands and put on her wedding ring, the very same ring she had stop wearing long time ago. And so they were all smiles the moment they were greeted by the press, fans, and people from the recording label with cars ready to take them to their respective places. Meetings with the label, John Reid, Jim Beach and the execs were scheduled in a week.

 

Roger watched how Brianna got into a car and was gone, off to the place she shared with her husband and he couldn’t help but feel pain inside his chest, and a profound need to cry.

 

…

 

Chris was inside his car, wondering what to make for dinner when he spotted a car where he usually parked his. There was a man taking bags to the car, carefully placing them on the boot, and then picking up boxes with books and the case into the spacious car.

 

That case which only belonged to Brianna’s beloved Red Special.

 

Chris parked his car and took slow steps to the entrance of the building where he lived. As he passed by the car, he noticed the man taking the bags and the boxes was wearing a suit, sunglasses – even when it was dark outside – and looked down as their eyes met.

 

When he tried to open the door with his keys, Chris found it was already open, and inside, Brianna was sitting on an armchair, her eyes down, as if she didn’t dare meet his gaze. She was dressed as if she were ready to leave, with a little bag next to her long legs.

 

Before he could say something, Chris’ eyes looked at the bookcase behind her – it was half emptied.

 

“Bri?”

 

“Hello, Chris.”

 

He noticed her voice cracked, as if she was about to cry. “Bri? Bri, what’s happening? I saw a man packing bags and boxes –“

 

“Chris, we need to talk.”

 

She finally looked up and Chris met her red eyes for the first time in long months. Brianna had been crying and was about to cry again.

 

Chris knew what she wanted to talk about. He’d known for a while, but didn’t want to admit it. Every time he called her, he was waiting for her to break the news. Tell him what he already knew. But she never did, so he hoped that maybe she’d changed her mind. Maybe it was just… a fling. A little thing. He could forgive that. He understood her scene, what came with rock ‘n roll and touring.

 

But his heart broke a little the moment his eyes found she was not wearing her wedding ring, but it was sitting on the coffee table, among the keys of their flat, and a necklace he had given her on their wedding day.

 

“Chris…”

 

“How could you do this to me?”

 

It was a whisper.

 

And then came the shouting.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I finally did it. 
> 
> Your comments and kuddos are the best. They always make me smile. So don't forget to tell me your thoughts on this.
> 
> Remember you can come by myfourmisfits.tumblr.com I'm thinking about posting little snippets as I write this.


	21. Leaving Home Ain't Easy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait. But here's a new chapter and the next one is almost done!

_May, 1977_

 

 

“When we discussed the division of the assets, Chris came up with this,” Jim Beach handed Brianna yet another document which the guitarist only scanned very quickly and finally found Chris’ signature at the bottom. “a rather… sensitive move, I should say. He’s resigning his rights over whatever asset you may have under your name – that includes property and money. Obviously, he expects you do the same.”

 

Brianna nodded and took a pen. She knew Jim Beach and that was the reason why she had asked him to represent her and help her with her divorce. So, as predicted, Jim had already redacted and printed a document in which, by signing it, Brianna was also resigning her rights over Chris’ properties and money. The lawyer only had a small flat in central London, his parents’ house, and a little fortune which had been growing ever since he joined an important law firm.

 

The guitarist hadn’t seen Chris ever since that night after coming back from Australia in which she left his flat taking everything which belonged to her – her clothes, her books, her guitar, and leaving on the coffee table her wedding ring, a necklace which used to belong to Chris’ mother and the keys of the flat.

 

Brianna confessed the truth to Chris. She said she was sorry, that she had never meant to do the things she had done but that _she had fallen in love._

 

So far, Chris had been listening to her in silence. There were tears. He was sitting across her, both hands on her lap turning into fists the moment she said she had fallen in love with someone else.

 

And that triggered the whole thing.

 

He stood up, took a frame from off the mantelpiece and threw it against the nearest wall. Brianna closed her eyes and when she opened them, she saw the frame and the glass shattered on the floor, and a picture of them on their wedding day.

 

Then came the shouting.

 

Chris reminded Brianna of all the things he had done for her so, the long days, weeks and months he had stayed home waiting for her to make her dreams come true, of all those nights he watched her perform and how he had travelled with her all across the UK, leaving his job, everything to be with her.

 

Though she never mentioned Roger’s name, Chris did.

 

“It’s _him_ , isn’t it?” When he got no reply, he shouted more and more. “It’s Roger.”

 

“Chris…”

 

“Bri, tell me it was just… one night stand,” Chris whispered. “A fling. Tell me you were drunk. Tell me it meant nothing. Please, tell me it was nothing. I can forgive that. I’ll forgive you, Bri. _Please_.”

 

Brianna had never meant for this to happen. The day she married Chris and said her vows, she had truly meant what she said. She had promised to love him and cherish him forever. When they danced, she whispered those promises again to his ear as she felt his strong hands pressing her more and more against him.

 

She knew she was breaking Chris’ heart and the little family they were. Because even if they didn’t have children, they were still a family. A family of two.

 

A family who was trying for a baby not so long before she started her relationship with Roger.

 

“I’m sorry, Chris.”

 

“We were trying for a baby, for God’s sake!” Chris started shouting again, as tears poured down his cheeks. “You said you wanted to have a baby, have a family with _me_!”

 

“I know. I’m sorry.”

 

Chris fell on the sofa across her pressed both hands to his crying face. He cried loudly – his chest raising and falling with every sob.

 

Across him, Brianna was also crying – silently, as she watched the man she thought would share the rest of her life with crying because she had broken her vows – she had broken his heart. Brianna had shattered all the dreams they ever had of sharing a life together, growing old together, and bringing life to the world together.

 

“Brianna?”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Are you okay?” The lawyer asked after watching Brianna’s eyes lost on the wall behind him. He’d been talking for about two minutes about the process and how they were going to keep it in the shadows so the news wouldn’t reach the press when he noticed the guitarist looking rather lost in thought. “You look pale. Want some water? Tea maybe?”

 

She shook her head and gave him a fake little smile. “I’m sorry, Jim. You were saying?”

 

“Chris has been… very professional. He’s representing himself. A nice chap, really. He knows a person or two in court. Might be able to find a way of keeping it low.”

 

“Good.”

 

Jim nodded. “The process will be completed in six months. Is that okay with you? I don’t know if you guys have a tour in mind or…”

 

“No, no tours for now. We’ve just started recording a few songs. You should come to the studio one day.”

 

“I will.” Jim assured her with a smile and stood up to walk her to the door of his office. “Brianna… it’ll be okay. Trust me. Chris’s a good chap. He’s really calm and says he wants this to end the best way. There are no hard feelings.”

 

“Thanks, Jim. For everything.”

 

Brianna felt a knot in her throat. These things – her divorce – was a wound she knew would forever be open. Despite living with the man she loved and feeling so much in love with him, Brianna still couldn’t sleep at night thinking of all the wrong things she had done to Chris, a man who loved her and gave her everything.

 

He’d been there when the memories of Tim hurting her came back, or when Queen was still struggling to make ends meet and when they kept on listening to recording label executives telling them they would never be big.

 

Every night, in Roger’s arms, she thought about the pain she’d brought to Chris and how she was telling her parents she had decided to divorce her husband to be with Roger Taylor, the drummer of Queen, the man she had taken to their house years ago.

 

Brianna still dreaded that day. She knew she had to tell them before the news reached the press.

 

From his window, Jim watched Roger waiting outside. He was leaning against his car, both hands inside the pockets of his fur coat, dark shades covering his eyes, and a cigarette between his lips.

 

The lawyer observed the scene – Brianna had both arms around the drummer’s neck and he was now pressing her against his car, kissing her passionately and opening the door for her to get in.

 

When they left, Jim called John Reid. Now it was time to work on and develop a plan to protect Queen’s privacy and keep the press away from all the rumours which may surface in the upcoming months.

 

…

  


_June,  1977_

 

 

The moment Roger opened the door of his flat, he didn’t expect to find it as tidy as it was, and less to feel the magnificent smell coming from the kitchen. He quickly pulled at his coat, kicked his boots off and made his way to the kitchen. There, he found Brianna wearing nothing else but a long oversized shirt. Her hair was wet and she looked so edible to Roger that the first thing he did was to press himself against her and let his hands run up and down her body as he kissed her exposed neck.

 

Roger had fallen in love with domesticity. Ever since returning from their longest tour to date, and since Brianna had moved in with him, he longed to go back home every time he had to leave. He loved coming back home and find Brianna waiting for him, with the food he liked, asking him how his day was, and so on. He had always thought he would hate such life. But he loved it and sometimes wondered how long he would have to wait to also have a little thing waiting for him when he came back from the recording studio where he had started working on his solo projects.

 

“Leave it,” Roger whispered to her ear as his hands made their way to her lacy panties under her shirt. “Not hungry.”

 

“Rog.”

 

“C’mon, love.”

 

“Rog, wait.”

 

“We can eat later.”

 

“Rog, I went to see my parents.”

 

Oh.

 

The drummer took two steps back and watched Brianna adjusting her shirt and caring for the food on the stove. “You talked to them?”

 

“Yes.” She had turned to continue stirring whatever she was preparing, and Roger knew she was about to cry. “Told them everything.”

 

“And?”

 

“Well, you know. First we talked about the tour. Dad showed me a map. He kept track of all our gigs,” Brianna turned to him and gave him a fake smile. She opened the fridge to look for something and continued cooking. “Then gave them a few things I’d bought for them.”

 

“And?”

 

“And then I told them Chris and I were divorcing.” Brianna was now placing the food in the plates and handing them to Roger. “Put these on the table, will you.”

 

The drummer did as he was asked and returned to the kitchen. “What did they say about that?”

 

“What I knew they would say,” Brianna was pouring wine in his cup and water on hers and finally took her seat across the drummer. “they first asked why we were divorcing.” The guitarist took a bite of her vegetarian meal.

 

“You told them the truth?”

 

“Yeah.” Brianna took a sip of her water and said nothing for long seconds. “Mum called me _indecent_. Dad said nothing, though I know what he was thinking. Must think I’m some sort of _whore_.”

 

“Bri –”

 

“It’s the way I was raised, Rog. When I was eight, a neighbour left her husband for his best friend. It was a scandal. The man was left alone with the children. My mum used to look after them sometimes. I remember listening to my father calling her a whore for leaving her husband and children.” The guitarist took another bite of her food. “So before they could say anything else I said I wasn’t sorry if this… if I was disappointing them, but that I love you and that I’m planning to spend the rest of my life with you.”

 

Roger looked at her and said nothing. She gave him a little smile and kept on eating. He ate as well, as answered her when she asked him about these songs he’d been working on that day. Roger started producing his own solo project, recording all the instruments alone and so far he was in love with the results. It was going to be something completely different from Queen.

 

“Rog?”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“You know, I told my parents something else.”

 

“Oh.” The drummer finished his wine and leaned back on his chair, waiting for her. “And what’s that?”

 

For one reason or another, Roger never saw it coming. Everything in the last three months had been from an outer world. The day they’d embarked on the latest tour, Roger was in a relationship with Dominique, the woman he loved and admired. Deacy’s son was a newborn, Freddie was still with Mary and Brianna was married to Chris Mullen.

 

And now he was living with Brianna, loving her almost every night. When they were nothing but naked bodies in his bed, Roger felt the happiest. He’d always been in love with her and it took him almost ten years to realise it. And the same amount of time to finally love her the way he did – so freely.

 

Now Freddie and Mary were no longer engaged, having broken up for reasons Freddie never told them, but they already knew. Deacy was expecting another child. The Queen family was growing and –

 

She had known for just a few days and could not keep it to herself anymore. Her doctor had given her vitamins and a special diet to keep her body strong for the new life growing inside her.

 

Brianna had also been advised to wait until after the third month. With her previous miscarriage some years ago the risks were not high, but she was told to avoid working too much, rest, and take things easy.

 

But this time she had a strange feeling. She knew this time she was having this baby. This time, she knew she was going to become a mother with the man she loved.

 

Brianna knew it.

 

She could feel it.

 

“Love?”

 

“I’m pregnant.”

 

Roger felt his heart stopping. The feeling felt familiar. He felt as the day he met her. Because every time he looked into her eyes, when he watched her smile, when he leaned in and felt her sweet scent, all those images reminded him of that morning at Imperial, when he met her for the first time.

 

Almost ten years later he felt the same. His heart stopped the moment the woman he loved and wanted to spend the rest of her life with announced she was expecting a child.

 

His child.

 

“Rog?”

 

“Are you… are you sure?”

 

She nodded. Brianna had little tears in her eyes the moment she felt Roger’s arms around her, pressing her tightly against him, his lips on her, his hands already on her flat stomach.

 

Brianna wasn’t ready to look into the drummer’s eyes and see tears.

 

“I’m sure. You’re going to be a dad.”

 

That night, after making love, Roger kissed Brianna’s stomach and cried. Brianna didn’t know what to do or tell the drummer to make him stop crying.

 

“I love you, Bri.”

 

“I love you too, Rog.”

 

“And we’re having a baby.”

 

“We are, yes.”

 

“You’re giving me a child.”

 

She smiled, as she caressed his long locks, those blonde locks she loved so much. “The doctor told me to… to be careful. I lost one before.” Roger looked up and met her eyes. “I don’t want to lose this one too. I know I won’t…”

 

“We’ll stop. We’ll talk to Freddie and Deacy –”

 

“We’ll record this one and then we’ll stop,” Brianna interrupted him. “I want to keep on making music for as long as I can.”

 

Roger was now on top of her. He was cradling her face with both hands and looking into her eyes. “But love...”

 

“Roger, we will be alright. I know it. We will have this baby. I _promise_ you we will have this baby.”

 

Brianna was now holding Roger in her arms. Both were now sitting on his big bed. The drummer was crying in her arms and Brianna was lovingly pulling his locks off his face, kissing away his tears of joy. She knew he was as happy as she was. But the danger of losing the baby was still there.

 

And she knew the doctors had advised her to be careful because there were risks. But she was willing to take risks - keep on working, recording, singing, playing her guitar because she knew this baby was going to be born.

 

…

  


_August, 1978_

 

“You okay, darling?” Freddie asked, concern written all over his face. From their place, they could hear the journalists fighting to get into the room, photographers taking shoots and John Reid warning the journalists they could only ask one question _each_. “We should talk to Reid and call it off. Say one of us is not feeling well.”

 

Brianna’s hand, which had been resting on her stomach, was now taking Freddie’s. “It’ll be alright.” Then, she turned to Paul, who was at the door, checking when the people were finally entering the place. “You think the shirt and the table are enough?”

 

He gave her both thumbs up. “Bump covered.”

 

“Thank you.” She smiled at him.

 

Ever since breaking the news to the band and the closest members of their team, it seemed Paul had changed. He no longer voiced his own opinions during their recording process or followed them everywhere, but only when Freddie asked him to accompany them to the studios or when they had an interview.

 

It was as if the old Paul had come back. Even Roger was now complaining less about him, and the band felt at ease with him.

 

“Let’s do this.”

 

Paul turned to warn the band. “Ready?”

 

“One minute!” shouted Roger, as he left his chair between Freddie and John to kneel next to Brianna. “You sure you okay?”

 

“Of course, Rog. It’s just a press conference. We’ve done tons, remember?”

 

“Remember what we agreed on?”

 

She rolled her eyes. “One tap, someone takes the question,” she said, tapping the table with her fingers. “Two taps, we deny it. Three taps –”

 

“Three taps and we’re done.” Roger finished off for her. He pressed one last kiss to her lips as he pressed his own hand against hers on her stomach.

 

“I love you.”

 

It was strange to see the journalists and photographers taking their seats, watching them fighting over who sat closest to them. So far, Freddie, Brianna, Roger and John all got into the place where they held their press conferences once all the journalists and photographers were all seated and ready to start. But this time they could not afford to make an entrance and have journalists watch Brianna walking to the table and taking her chair, always next to Freddie. Her bump was already very pronounced, making it obvious she was pregnant. It had made her and Roger doubt whether she was expecting twins, but the firsts scans confirmed they were expecting only one baby.

 

Brianna said it was probably because of her thin frame that the bump looked big for being four months pregnant.

 

Brianna winced when she watched one photographer getting close to the table to take a shot of her. She could already imagine the headlines.

 

**_Brianna May pregnant with Queen’s drummer’s baby._ **

 

**_Queen’s May and Taylor expecting first child._ **

 

**_Queen’s recently divorcee expecting child with drummer._ **

 

The press could be nasty when they wanted to. So they had to be ready.

 

“Hello. Good morning and thank you for being here today.” Brianna was the first one to speak.

 

“Brianna, what’s the meaning behind ‘Fat Bottomed Girls’?”

 

No tap. All good.

 

“It’s a song that accompanies pretty well I think Freddie’s ‘Bicycle Race’. That’s why we decided to include it on the B-side.”

 

“But what’s behind the song?”

 

No tap.

 

Brianna shrugged. “It’s an appreciation of curvy women,” she explained as it were the easiest thing in the world. “Women who rock the world. No matter their shape.”

 

“Because all women rock this world, darling,” Freddie added. “Bri, the lady who cleans my house, your mother too. They all make this world better.”

 

“This new record seems to mix all the different styles you’ve been playing in your latest records,” a journalist began reading from a notepad. Brianna wanted to smile a bit. She liked when they did their homework, took their time to listen to their records and prepare thoughtful questions. “Despite their different melodies and rhythms, there seems to be a story being told through the songs. Could any of you explain to what extent these songs seem to be related to the latest rumours concerning some of the members of Queen?”

 

One tap – someone takes the question.

 

Roger, sporting a new haircut, long locks gone, dark glasses hiding his blue eyes, cleared his throat.

 

Abort. Abort. Abort. _Someone take the question!_

 

Brianna’s eyes were on Deacy and Freddie, who seemed to have forgotten about their deal.

 

They had agreed that questions about the recent “rumours” on the papers were going to be taken by Deacy or Freddie, but not by either Brianna and Roger. While Brianna could remain calm and possibly find a way of answering without truly answering the question, they all knew Roger could fly off the handle pretty easily. The last thing they needed was to have an argument with journalists and be featured in every newspaper in the country as the band who hated the press.

 

Not like they didn’t.

 

“I’ll answer the first part of your question. Yes, this album mixes different styles – our styles. There’s no story though behind those songs –”

 

“So ‘Leaving Home Ain’t Easy’ by Brianna May is not about her divorce?”

 

Two taps – we deny it.

 

“It ruins all the mystery, darling!”

 

“Freddie, there’s been pictures of you in gay discos and reports of men who affirm they’ve been your partners…”

 

“And you believe them?” Freddie asked in return.

 

The journalist, a man in his early forties shrugged. “Could you explain the lines ‘floating around in ecstasy’, ‘I wanna make a supersonic man out of you’ and ‘I’m a sex machine ready to reload’?”

 

“And what makes you think I’m explaining my song writing to you?”

 

Brianna was looking down as the shouting increased. The journalists were clearly ready to kill anyone to get their attention and ask their questions.

 

There were a few more questions about their upcoming tour. It seemed there was something journalists tried to say but none dare – still – to ask the right question. Most asked and re-asked about the fact their next tour covered only a few big cities in the UK but the venues were rather small, compared to the big stadiums they had played in the past. There were no release dates for any concerts abroad, and that seemed to have caught the journalists’ attention.

 

The thing was they would not afford to travel the world again as much as they wanted to. The doctors had advised Brianna she could still play for at least a few more months, but also advised her to refrain from taking long flights and travelling.

 

The band was not replacing her as she had suggested. Their most trustworthy roadie was an excellent guitarist and knew how to play all their songs as if he were Brianna himself, but Freddie, John and of course Deacy were taking none of it. Queen will never be Queen if one of them was missing. They were playing with her and only with her.

 

If they had to stop, they were doing it. They were waiting for Brianna and Roger.

 

Always.

 

“When are you due?” asked another journalist sitting right across her, a few feet away.

 

No taps.

 

No taps.

 

Brianna knew Freddie, Roger and Deacy were looking at her hands, waiting for a tap. A sign. Anything.

 

“Are you calling her fat?” Freddie asked, convincingly faking anger.

 

“Brianna, is it true you and Roger Taylor are expecting a baby?” As soon as the journalist finished the question, everyone went silent. It turned out he was the only one who knew it. A few days prior to the press conference for their latest album ‘Jazz’, it’d been revealed and even published on different papers across the country that Brianna May might be pregnant – only a few months after it was discovered she was divorcing her husband, lawyer Christian Mullen, and that the identity of the father of the baby was still unknown.

 

Brianna was pale.

 

“What’s your name?” Roger asked sharply.

 

“Richard. From The Daily Mail.”

 

“Tell me, _Richard from The Daily Mail_ , don’t you get your facts checked?”

 

“We have reports from people in Australia saying you were seen in very compromising situations back in April during your A Night at The Opera Tour.” The young man said, clearly challenging them. “We also have pictures of you and Brianna leaving a medical centre two weeks ago. People have reported seeing you in the maternity wing of the facility.”

 

Silence.

 

All eyes were on Brianna May, musician, singer, songwriter and astrophysicist. Lead guitarist of the rock band Queen. Recently divorced.

 

“Brianna, could you please answer the question,” Richard from The Daily Mail said. “Are you and Roger Taylor expecting a baby?”

 

They were all silent. Journalists and photographers watched Roger Taylor, drummer of Queen leaning on the table, his shades no longer covering his eyes. Roger and Brianna exchanged a look.

 

The hell with it.

 

She knew they could no longer hide it.

 

Brianna nodded, with a deep blush on her cheeks. “Yes, Roger and I are expecting a baby.”

 

The room was about to explode.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So guys, thank you for your kudos and your comments. They make my day. Remember you can come and visit me at myfourmisfits.tumblr.com 
> 
> Here I'm a slut for your comments, your kudos, Roger Taylor, Ben Hardy, Gwilym Lee. My daddies.


	22. We love baby May-Taylor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... the baby's finally born!

_October, 1977_

_  
_

 

Brianna turned to face the mirror. She quite liked what she saw. Despite the weight gain, she liked her new curves. She felt her ‘lanky’ figure was gone, and was replaced with a little fat here and there. Her cheeks were fuller now and sported a deep pink shade. Her breasts were larger, as her belly, now that she was almost six months pregnant.

 

They were in London. It was their last gig before she officially began her ‘maternity leave’ as Jim Beach, John Reid and some executives from their recording label called the period in which the band was going to stop recording and touring. While the label wrote in the documents she signed ‘an initial leave of six months’ until they began recording again, Freddie and Jim Beach had assured her and Roger Queen was stopping for as long as they needed, and that they were, under no circumstances, going to be made to go back to the studio in six months. It was a mere formality.

 

True to be told, Brianna was taking that time to rest. She hadn’t told Roger her plans included going back to the recording studios as soon as she could, but she guessed time would make her change her mind once the baby was born.

 

Cradling her bump with both hands, Brianna smiled to her reflection on the mirror. She was wearing a pair of dark flared trousers (especially made for her and her bump) and a dark silky shirt. Said shirt was loose, perfect for her growing stomach and she had undone the first three buttons, knowing how much Roger liked it.

 

Brianna was standing, leaning on the dressing mirror to apply some lipstick when certain drummer opened the door and smiled as soon as their eyes met.

 

“Hey.”

 

“Hey, love.” The drummer stood behind her, placing both hands on her bump as he buried his face in her wild curls. Brianna felt him taking a deep breath, inhaling her scent, and finally pressing kisses to the back of her neck. “You okay, Bri?”

 

“Hmm.”

 

“You sure?”

 

It made her roll her eyes. Ever since announcing her pregnancy, everyone, from Roger to John, Freddie, John Reid, Jim Beach, Paul, and even the roadies were asking her if she was okay all the time. Their concern, though appreciated, was becoming a little bit annoying. Brianna knew all cared for her and her child, but she was not going to die. Their concern varied from offering chairs all the time to asking her if she needed water, or something to eat, or call a doctor once the day they were rehearsing at the venue in Liverpool and she almost tripped with some wire.

 

She never suffered any symptoms, and could only tell she was expecting the day she realised she had missed her period and remembered she and Roger had (lots of) unprotected sex. Two pregnancy tests and a visit to her doctor revealed she was indeed expecting and that very same day she told her parents and Roger.

 

Some weeks later, the band and their closest friends and aids were also told, and some months later the news reached the press. From that moment on, Brianna and Roger received tons of letters, little presents and well wishes from all over the world. It was crazy. And it got crazier the morning Brianna decided to go for a walk and found several paparazzi waiting for her outside Roger’s flat, ready to take pictures and publish them on different papers and tabloids.

 

That was how one day Brianna and Roger realised they needed to find a new place to live. They had looked at all sorts of places all around London. While Roger favoured houses big enough for a family of fifteen to live, Brianna preferred small places, with three to five rooms, far from Central London where she knew paparazzis could find them easily.

 

“I like this one,” Brianna told him as they reached the back garden. It was a lovely house outside London, with five rooms, a big kitchen and dining room, a library and a basement Roger said was perfect for their instruments. “big enough for us.”

 

“Then it’s ours.”

 

“I can’t let you pay for it.”

 

“Why ever not?” Roger asked, getting rid of his shades and placing them in the pocket of his leather jacket. “I can afford it.”

 

Brianna looked down and then at him again. “I know you can afford it, but it’s a lot of money. Let me pay half of it.”

 

“Why?”

 

“We’ll be living together, right? I should pay you half of it.”

 

“Are you joking?”

 

“What’s so funny, Rog?”

 

The drummer shook his head and kissed her lips. “I’m not gonna let you spend a penny on it. It’s our house and I’m paying for it. And it’s gonna be under your name too.”

 

“We can’t. Not until the divorce is completed.”

 

“Oh, right.”

 

“Sorry.”

 

“Don’t be silly, love.” Roger turned to the lady from the estate agent. “We want this one.”

 

After discussing some legal matters with the lady, it was agreed they were to talk to his accountant for the deposit, the pay and Jim Beach to get the documents ready for him to sign and move as soon as possible.

 

“Can’t wait for this tour to end. Take you back home.”

 

“Me too,” whispered the guitarist as she felt Roger’s hands venturing underneath her silky shirt. His hands were warm against the skin of her prominent stomach. “Rog…”

 

“You look so good.” The drummer whispered against her ear as his hands moved further up from her belly, until his hands caught her already erect nipples. “No bra, huh? Naughty girl.”

 

Brianna closed her eyes and let out a soft sigh the moment she felt Roger’s hands on her breasts and his erection being pressed against her backside. “Roger…”

 

“We have some minutes,” the drummer whispered as he made her turn until they were facing each other. “c’mon, love. I want to make love to you.”

 

“Rog… we’ve got to meet Fred and John…”

 

“Hush… we still have an hour before the gig.” The drummer was now kissing her passionately, pressing her against the wall as his hands were undoing the buttons of her shirt. His lips soon were on her neck, her collarbones and the valley between her breasts. He sighed softly the moment he felt Brianna’s hands on his scalp, occasionally pulling his now short locks.

 

“Rog… my parents… they are here.”

 

Roger kissed her again and took a step back to look at her prominent belly and her large breasts. “Don’t think I’m not making love to you just ‘cause your parents are staying with us.”

 

Brianna chuckled and hummed softly the moment she felt Roger’s hands softly caressing her belly. “I love you, Roger.”

 

“I love you too, Bri. Always.”

 

Some time later, before the gig began, Brianna met her parents backstage. There, they hugged her and kissed her good luck as if the weeks they had spent without talking to each other had never existed.

 

After announcing she was divorcing Chris because she had fallen in love with Roger,  _‘yes mum, Roger, Queen’s drummer’_ , and after being call an indecent young woman, Brianna decided not to talk to them until they accepted her and her new relationship.

 

And most importantly, the baby she was having with Roger.

 

So some weeks passed by until Brianna got a phonecall back from her hometown. Mum Ruth and Dad Harold received her and Roger with opened arms. Though their first meeting was a little bit awkward, it turned out to be okay. Her parents were happy to know they were becoming grandparents and Brianna could feel they were truly welcoming Roger into the family.

 

“Sure you’re ready?” John asked Brianna as she hung her Red Special and softly placed it across her growing belly.

 

“I’m okay.”

 

“We set up a high stool near your spot,” Paul commented once he had made sure Freddie had his special mic. “you know the code. Scratch your head and we’ll move it to the stage.”

 

Roger patted the PA’s back. “Thanks, mate.”

 

“There’s also an ambulance and a doctor ready. Don’t push yourself too hard, Bri.”

 

“I’ll be okay, Paul. Thank you.”

 

Paul gave him a little smile and offered himself to take the Mays to a special place where they could sit and watch the show.

 

Roger kissed Brianna one last time before they made their way to the stage.

 

Brianna watched the audience and smiled widely the moment her eyes spotted a sign she had never seen before.

 

_**We love baby May-Taylor.** _

 

…

  


_ Early December, 1977 _

_  
_

 

Brianna felt her heart jumping inside her ribcage. She knew she had to be there for legal reasons, because the last signature had to be done here in court and because both participants had to be there and sign the last document that finally proved they were legally divorced together with their lawyer and Brianna had dreared the moment since she had called Jim, told him she was divorcing her husband and wanted him to deal with all the legal process.

 

“Chris used his contacts to spare the reading of the final document.” Jim assured her as they made their way into the building. “It’ll be a minute at the most. Brianna, are you okay?”

 

“Yes. I’m alright.”

 

They were led to the courtroom where Brianna saw Chris and a man sitting on a desk with papers perfectly set up, pens, and two glasses with water.

 

She felt her heart racing the moment Chris looked up and their eyes met. Brianna noticed his eyes were quickly on her baby bump, which was enormous by now. She was giving birth in a month and she wanted to hide herself so Chris wouldn’t see her. Because Brianna was no stupid, and she knew how much Chris surely hated her. And she also knew he was probably going to hate her more when he saw her heavily pregnant.

 

But he didn’t.

 

“Hello.”

 

“Hello, Bri.” He greeted her with a smile. His expression was warm, and he kissed her cheek as if something like eight months ago he hadn’t shouted at her and begged her for all of it to be just a fling, a one night stand, something he could forgive and pretend never happened.

 

“Please, sit,” he gestured her to take a seat and helped her with her chair. He then greeted Jim and finally sat across Brianna and started handing her some documents. “Do you want some water?”

 

“I’m fine.”

 

“Okay. Let’s start, shall we? These are for you. Signed by you and me. These are from the division of the assets which we agreed on resigning our rights on our property, remember?” He looked at her and she merely nodded. “Right. And this is the last one we have to sign in the presence on The Right Honourable… whatever, but he’s his secretary. He’ll do.” Chris introduced a young man and Brianna couldn’t help but laugh a bit at Chris’ comment. He laughed too. “Jim, it’s the same document I sent you, but take a look at it just in case.”

 

The lawyer shook his head. “It’s not necessary, Chris.”

 

“I insist.”

 

“It’s okay, Chris.” Brianna took the pen and signed in all the dotted lines Chris pointed.

 

Brianna, instinctively, cradled her bump while Chris was signing the document. The lawyer, as soon as he finished signing them, looked up and met Brianna’s gaze on him.

 

“So… it’s done. We’re officially divorced.”

 

Brianna didn’t know what to say. But she watched as Jim took all the papers, put them inside a folder, shook hands with the Right Honourable’s secretary, Chris, and was helping her stand up when Chris smiled at her. “Can I… talk to you for a moment?”

 

“I’m going to say hello to some old chaps from uni.” Jim excused himself and left. The secretary said something Brianna couldn’t care less and left.

 

And so she was left alone with Chris.

 

“Congratulations on your baby, Bri. When are you due?”

 

“Thanks. Next month.”

 

“Roger must be so excited.”

 

Brianna said nothing for some time, trying to see if Chris was being sarcastic or honest. But she knew him, so Brianna could tell Chris was being himself, he was being the man she had fallen in love with years ago and decided to marry him.

 

“He is… we still don’t know if it’s a boy or a girl.”

 

“Have you thought of any names?”

 

Brianna shook her head. “Not really.”

 

“Bri… I won’t lie to you – I was really mad when you left. I was angry. So I wanted to apologise for the stupid things I said that night. There are no hard feelings, honestly. I wish you and Roger all the best.”

 

A tear or two escaped her eyes. She soon felt Chris arms around her and closed her eyes to feel his scent. They stayed in each other’s arms for long seconds until Chris broke the embrace and kissed her cheek.

 

“You know, I bought your latest record,” Chris said with a smile. “and I absolutely _love_ ‘Fat Bottom Girls’.”

 

“Thank you, Chris.”

 

“I hope you have a very healthy baby and the big family you’ve always wanted to have.”

 

“I’m so sorry, Chris.”

 

“No one chooses who to fall in love with, Bri. Look at me now – I’m dating a lawyer from a competitor law firm.” Brianna laughed. “I’ll keep on listening to you guys. Will take me some time to go to one of your gigs… but well. I’ve got to get going.”

 

“I wish you all the best, Chris. Always.”

 

Chris kissed her cheek and left, not before turning and waving his hand as he used to do when they were in the airport and Brianna was about to embark on a tour.

 

Brianna smiled to herself. As soon as she left the room, she was greeted by Jim Beach, who was worriedly looking at her, trying to find any sign that could tell him whether things had gone wrong or not.

 

“Jim?”

 

“Yes?”

 

“Thank you.”

 

…

 

 

_ January, 1978 _

 

 

Roger opened his blue eyes the moment he turned on his bed and found the place next him empty and cold. He sat down and looked at the emergency spot, as they called the place next to the windows where they kept a bag with Brianna and their baby’s clothes ready in case they had to go to the hospital.

 

The drummer put on his slippers and ventured to the room next to theirs, where he found Brianna sitting on the rocking chair he had got for her. His eyes also found her Red Special leaning against the cradle.

 

“Can’t sleep?”

 

“Hmm.” Brianna smiled the moment the drummer knelt across her and rested his blonde head on her lap. His strong arms were circling her waist when she caressed his head. “I’ve got this idea for a song… tried to work out a tune… but there’s no way I can play my guitar.”

 

Roger looked up and met her eyes. He knew how much Brianna missed playing, going to the studio, rehearsing, and doing all the things she used to do before. Now she was heavily pregnant, could barely walk more than a few steps before having to sit down or lean against something because the baby was big. Her bump was of a considerable size, making it impossible for her to play her beloved Red Special.

 

They had taken all these months to decorate their house and prepare the room for the baby. They had it painted white because they still didn’t know the gender. They had chosen a cradle, some pieces of furniture and they had already little teddy bears and toys, presents from Freddie, Deacy and some friends. Harold May had even gone one day and glued some shiny stars on the ceiling of his future grandchild.

 

“How are you feeling?”

 

Roger looked up and met her eyes. She smiled at him as her hands cradled his face tenderly. “You know, Rog, you were right.”

 

“Of course I was right.” He kissed her belly and then frowned. “Right ‘bout what?”

 

“Remember when we were at Rockfield? You said you knew I’d fall for your charms.” Roger smiled, remembering. “And I did.”

 

“Course you did, love.”

 

“Was that… all that flirting… all that touching really you?”

 

“What you mean?”

 

“Were you  _really_  flirting with me?”

 

Roger’s hands were tracing imaginary patterns on her stomach. “I’ve always flirted with you. The first time we met I was dying to fuck you.” He smiled when she laughed. “Now I can’t believe I get to make love to you every night.”

 

“Rog.”

 

“Hmm?”

 

“Go to our room and get the bag.”

 

“What?”

 

“The bag.”

 

“What bag?”

 

Brianna rolled her eyes. “ _The_ bag!”

 

“Shit!” The drummer almost jumped and looked down at the liquid on the floor. “Shit, shit, shit!”

 

“Will you calm down? _I_ am the one who’s about to give birth and _you_ are freaking out!”

 

Roger watched her so calm. “Is it coming now?”

 

“No, I think I’ve just peed.”

 

“Oh.”

 

“It’s coming _now_!”

 

“But you said -”

 

“Just get the bag,” Brianna stood up almost effortlessly and looked down at her wet legs and feet. “Bring a towel too. And my slippers.”

 

Two minutes later they were inside Roger’s car. Brianna was feeling an intense pain she never thought she would feel. The baby was kicking so much there were tears in her eyes. The guitarist kept her hands on her stomach, cradling her bump, rubbing the skin, trying to make the baby stop moving.

 

“Love?”

 

“Fuck, Rog! Hurry up!”

 

The drummer knew how much Brianna hated cigarettes and swearing. If she was swearing, then something wrong was going on.

 

“We’re almost there -”

 

“Oh God.”

 

“What is it?”

 

“I think it’s coming now!”

 

“What?”

 

“Now!”

 

“Now? As now _now_?”

 

“I think I want to push!”

 

“Not in the car! Hold on, love!”

 

“Could you stop worrying about your fucking car!”

 

They made it. Roger never let go of Brianna’s hand. He was there when the doctors checked on her and said she was definitely ready to push and some minutes away from meeting their baby.

 

“So, Mr Taylor, ready to join us?” Asked Brianna’s doctor as he applied the epidural. A nurse had come in with scrubs for him to wear and a headcap.

 

“Rog, I need you, please.”

 

Of course he was staying.

 

So he took a deep breath as he watched Brianna screaming, pushing, fighting the intense pain that represented bringing a child to this world. There were tears in her eyes the moment the doctors and nurses told her to keep on pushing.

 

“I… I can’t. I can’t do it. Rog, I can’t.”

 

“Love? Love, look at me. Look at me, Bri,” Roger pulled the locks off her face and kissed her lips. “C’mon love. You’re strong. You can do it. C’mon, just one big push.”

 

Brianna sighed as she gathered more strength. “Rog.”

 

“Yes love?”

 

“I love you. Always have. Always will.”

 

The drummer smiled and kissed her again. “Focus on my voice, love. C’mon. Push.”

 

They were looking into their eyes. Roger was holding Brianna’s hand and looking into her eyes the moment they heard their baby cry.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So baby May-Taylor is born! The baby's... well, Brian's first child was a boy, so was Roger's, so in this fic their baby is definitely a boy. Now, what about the name? Please vote here in your reviews. You've got THREE options:  
> James Harold May-Taylor (as in Brian's first child)  
> Rufus Harold May-Taylor (Roger's second son)  
> Suggestions? (the second name must definitely be Harold)  
> I'm not including "Felix" because I don't like the name so much. 
> 
> So! I've decided to follow the movie's events until the moment Freddie decides to break the band. I'm thinking of a sequel, with Roger and Brianna's solo works (and their growing family) before Live Aid... what do you guys think? 
> 
> Thank you for reading, for your kudos and comments! They make my day!
> 
> Oh, and get ready for some drama coming soon...


	23. James Harold May-Taylor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone who voted! 
> 
> Had very little time to re-read and look for any mistakes. Sorry about them. 
> 
> Of course I'm shortening the real timeline, but I have my reasons - trust me.

_January, 1978_

  


“He’s got your eyes and nose,” Brianna whispered as she cradled her baby in one arm and took his little hand with the other. “I think he also got your hair.”

 

She was sitting on a bed, very comfy pillows tucked behind her back. Brianna was breastfeeding her baby for the first time and she couldn’t help but smile at the sight of her newborn in her arms – so little yet so full of life.

 

Brianna had dreamt of this moment for long years. Ever since knowing she was pregnant, her mind was on keeping her baby safe inside her womb – keeping the life she and Roger had created. The ghost of miscarriage was there since the very first days and right up before the birth.

 

The guitarist had never voiced her worries, her deepest fears. Brianna had assured Roger and everyone around them she was the happiest woman on heart – but secretly, she was deeply scared. No pregnancy, no matter how advanced it is, is ever safe. They were lucky to have all the money and all the access to the best doctors in the country, but no doctor, no check up, no scan could be one hundred percent trustworthy.

 

She had remained calm the moment she felt her water breaking. Watching Roger screaming and fretting as he were the one about to give birth almost made her laugh. Immediately after giving birth, and after getting the news their baby was the healthiest creature on earth, Brianna let out a long sigh of relief and thanked every deity all people around the world believed in.

 

She had made it. The baby was alive, healthy, crying – which was a good thing because it meant his lungs had perfectly developed. It had ten toes and ten fingers, a beating heart and the loveliest eyes Brianna had ever seen.

 

Brianna cried the moment the doctor placed the baby on her naked chest. The skin-to-skin contact was the best, and Brianna remembered Ronnie’s advice. The baby started sucking on her breasts when Roger pressed a kiss to her lips and thanked her for giving him the most beautiful baby in the world.

 

For making him a father.

 

“How shall we call you? Daddy and mummy didn’t think of names, baby.”

 

Brianna felt Roger’s warm arm behind her back, bringing him closer to him. He was sitting next to her, his chin resting on her shoulder as his eyes took in the scene: their baby was hungrily sucking on her nipples, his little fingers curled on Brianna’s index finger.

 

“Are you crying?”

 

“‘Course I am,” Roger whispered. “We have a baby. We’re parents”

 

“We are, yes.” Brianna’s lips soon found his. “I promised you, didn’t I? I promised you we were having this baby and he’s here now.”

 

Both were crying because they were the only ones in the room who knew how much Brianna had suffered in the past. She been abused and suffered in the hands of the man she loved and thought he loved her too. She had lost a baby she had never looked for, but the pain was still there and would always be, like an open wound that would never close.

 

Their relationship – the beginning of it – was nothing they had really dreamt of. Hiding, loving each other in the darkness of hotel corridors, backstage or secretly in their rooms was nothing to be proud of. Though Roger was single, Brianna wasn’t. She was married.

 

Realising she was in love with Roger also caused a profound pain in her heart. She had given the feeling lots of thought. The night she asked Roger to kiss her and to make love to her, Brianna knew she was taking a step into a new path. Said path represented leaving her husband behind forever - breaking the vows she had written and swore to fulfil for the rest of her life, and breaking the promise to love and cherish Chris forever.

 

It wasn’t even a year since they kissed and made love for the first time and now they were holding their first child. A son Brianna knew was conceived with love and hope for the life they were beginning together.

 

“Look at your parents crying,” Roger whispered the moment the baby stopped sucking at Brianna’s breasts and opened his eyes. “You don’t know how much we waited for you.”

 

Roger had also feared the worst could happen any day since Brianna had told him she was pregnant. He was well aware of all the risks despite not being told straightforwardly. The drummer was no fool and knew fear where he smelled it. And he was a biologist – not a bloody doctor as Brianna told him once when he told her she should rest more often between sessions at the recording studio – but a biologist who had passed several subjects with good marks. He knew what a pregnancy entailed and the fact that Brianna felt like she was a bomb about to explode any minute.

 

The drummer knew her fears because he shared them. Roger knew he could never bear to lose his child or Brianna – so it worried him deadly how she showed no symptoms, almost no cravings, no pains. It was only a few weeks before the birth that she had problems moving around with such enormous bump.

 

But now all those fears and ghosts had vanished because he was holding his son who had no name yet but represented all the love he professed for the guitarist.

 

“What was that name? You know, that name you said the other day.”

 

“James?”

 

“Yeah,” Roger nodded. “James Harold May-Taylor. How ‘bout that?”

 

Effortlessly, Brianna left her hospital bed and watched Roger placing their child in the cot as she fixed her bra and nightgown. “Harold? As in… my dad’s name?”

 

“‘Course.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Because I know how much you love him,” Roger whispered as he watched his son peacefully sleeping. His eyes were on his hair and wondered if he had inherited Brianna’s wild curls. “he helped you built your Red Special, taught you how to play it. Bought you rock records. Wouldn’t have met  you if it hadn’t been for him.” He threw an arm around her waist and pressed a kiss to her neck.

 

“James Harold May-Taylor.” Brianna felt the name herself. She smiled, approving and definitely loving the sound of it. “ I suppose that’s your name, baby. James Harold May-Taylor.”

 

“That’s it. Son of Roger Taylor and Brianna May-Taylor.” Brianna turned to him, surprised. “Or Brianna Taylor. Whichever you prefer. But I personally think Brianna May-Taylor sounds _perfect_.”

 

Brianna caught her breath the moment she watched Roger kneeling, opening a little box and presenting her with a diamond ring. “Rog…”

 

“Bri… would you marry me?”

 

For all the years she had known him, Brianna could almost swear on her life Roger was not the marrying type. For the long time he’d been with Dominique, Roger complained she wanted to “tie him” and that marriage was just “a worthless ceremony or act” by which “he would be tied to a person he didn’t know if he could love forever” or at least “not cheat on”.

 

Tumultuous as the beginning of their relationship had been, and after the long six months they had to wait until she was officially divorced, Brianna thought she would never marry again – not even to Roger.

 

Believing Roger’s promise of “loving her forever” – made their third night together after having the most mind-blowing sex in the world – was enough for Brianna. She had and still believed those words, said with his baby blue eyes on hers, his hands on her waist and still inside her. His lips were on hers shortly after those words had escaped his mouth.

 

Brianna just nodded. She could not bring herself to utter a single thing since she felt her heart could jump out her ribcage at any moment. The guitarist caught her breath the moment she felt Roger taking her hand and placing the ring on her wedding finger and pressing a kiss to her still swollen belly.

 

“Say it, love.”

 

“I love you, Rog. Always have, always will.”

 

“You’re not answering my question, love.” Roger said as he stood up, circling her waist with both hands and looking for the perfect spot on her lips and neck. “Would you marry me?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Sorry, couldn’t hear you, love.”

 

Brianna smacked his hand on her hipbone. “Yes! I’ll marry you.”

 

“That’s more like it.”

 

The next thing Brianna felt was Roger’s lips on hers and his hands on her lower back, bringing her even closer to him.

 

...

  


“James, what a lovely name!” Freddie almost sang as he held the baby in his arms. “And he’s so beautiful, just like his mummy! Oh God, no, Bri, how could you let this happen? Jimmy here inherited Rog’s _peroxide hair_!”

 

Brianna and everyone in the room laughed really hard. With every passing day, Jimmy, as everyone – including Brianna and Roger – called him, was changing and growing up. His hair, which the day he was born seemed to be dark brownish, was now blonde. The tips were slightly curled upwards and Brianna suspected her son had inherited her curls.

 

“I suppose he did, yes,” Brianna laughed. “He’s also got his eyes and nose.”

 

“A mini Rog!” Freddie sang. “Or shall we call him Little Goldilocks?”

 

Roger extended his arms, ready to take his son with him. “His name’s James. Keep on calling him Little Goldilocks and we’re not inviting you to our wedding.”

 

“Just a joke, darling!”

 

“You kept on calling my son Robert ‘Little Deacy’,” John rolled his eyes. “But hey… you two getting married?”

 

Brianna nodded, showing her friends her ring. “We are. Rog proposed yesterday.”

 

“A wedding! Now darling let me be your bridesmaid!”

 

Brianna laughed at Freddie’s expression. “I think you, Mary and Ronnie will be my bridesmaids, yes.”

 

They had all realised, without even discussing the matter, that Freddie had come back being a different man from their tour around the world. It all began when he broke up his engagement to Mary and the new pictures of Freddie frequenting gar bars and discos all around London.

 

It was something they were not discussing because in families, everyone is accepted exactly how they are. If Freddie was gay, what could be wrong about that? Who were they to questions his life choices?

 

“I’m so happy for you,” Freddie kissed Brianna’s hand. “you’ve got such a beautiful family, darling.”

 

“You’re also part of this family, Fred.” Brianna smiled at him lovingly. “You’re Jimmy’s uncle.”

 

“I’m going to spoil him rotten, you’ll see.”

 

The singer was sitting on her bed, next to her. His hands had never left hers, and Brianna felt his warmth. She felt comfortable around him, almost as if he were the brother she never had – that brother she never got to meet because her mother lost him years before she was born.

 

Freddie was the man who appeared the night Tim left and she felt her whole world breaking into tiny little pieces. That shy man with the teeth she had met years ago was now the most extraordinary performer she had ever seen. Freddie was probably her favourite person in the world (after Roger and Jimmy, of course) and Brianna often found herself wondering what could be troubling him so much to disappear for weeks and then come back.

 

Ever since breaking up his engagement to Mary, Brianna felt Freddie had changed and evolved into a new person, a new human being who was unstoppable and who cared little (less than before) about the things the press or the tabloids could publish or say about him.

 

“You’re going to have a big family, darling.”

 

“I don’t know, Fred.” Brianna confessed him, her smile vanishing off her face the moment she knew Roger was too occupied with Deacy, Ronnie, Miami, John Reid and even Paul and showing them little Jim. “I was so scared.”

 

“You needn’t be. Roger has always taken care of you, even before you two were together. He’s going to be here with you, _always_.”

 

“You think?”

 

“I know it, dear. I feel it in my bones. And remember what I said before,” he singer winked at her as he patted her hands. “You’re going to have a big family – all the babies needed to have a band. Queen II.”

 

“Four kids?”

 

“Five! An army of five blonde kiddos. With your curls.”

 

Watching Ronnie and John with her two babies made Brianna reconsider the idea. She felt so blessed when she was pregnant. She hardly had any symptoms, the birth wasn’t the drama she imagined it’d be, and she had to admit she had always dreamt of having a large family.

 

“And they could tour with us when we’re too old to perform.”

 

“That’s what I’m talking about, darling.”

  


…

 

 

_December, 1978_

  


Brianna felt her heart jump inside her ribcage the moment she watched the people in Madison Square Garden clapping and stepping to their beat. Everyone was mad, singing back to them, shouting. She turned and Roger winked at her.

 

You okay?

 

Yes.

 

_Buddy, you're a boy, make a big noise  
_ _Playing in the street, gonna be a big man someday  
_ _You got mud on your face, you big disgrace  
_ _Kicking your can all over the place, singin'_

_We will, we will rock you  
We will, we will rock you_

 

The crowds were mad. She could literally feel their energy leaving their bodies and reaching them. Freddie was singing beautifully, John kept on making his little moves and Roger was hitting his toms with all his strength.

 

Brianna kept on clapping as her eyes made their way to where she knew her parents were. It was the first time they were accompanying her on a new tour – the first one ever since becoming a mother to a baby who could already take a few steps on his own.

 

The guitarist was dying to go back to the recording studio and touring, and she and Roger did so the day Jimmy turned three months old.

 

 _Buddy, you're a young man, hard man_  
Shouting in the street, gonna take on the world someday  
You got blood on your face, you big disgrace  
Waving your banner all over the place

_We will, we will rock you, sing it!  
We will, we will rock you, yeah_

 

To everyone’s surprise, Jimmy also joined them at the studios. Ronnie or the nanny Brianna and Roger had to hire looked after the May-Taylor baby while his parents composed and jammed. The atmosphere in the studio changed, and great songs were composed during the spring of 1978.

 

They were still arguing about who wrote what, what songs could be on the A or B side, who took more of the royalties – but the desire to make good music and make the world know who they were was still strong.

 

Still.

 

_Buddy, you're an old man, poor man  
_ _Pleading with your eyes, gonna get you some peace someday  
_ _You got mud on your face, big disgrace  
_ _Somebody better put you back into your place, do it!_

 

It was time for her solo. She played it with all her heart and soul. Behind she could feel Roger hitting his toms and John with his bass. This was more than she had imagined the moment she wrote the song and had everyone at the studio clapping and stepping to that beat she had come up while playing with Jimmy.

 

The beat and the song came to her one afternoon while she played with her son. Jimmy was taking his first steps, using the coffee table for balance. Brianna was standing, clapping her hands to get him to walk to her when Jimmy stepped once. She clapped twice and he stepped once.

 

Then the lyrics came to her when she was feeding him. She asked Roger for paper and a pen and after dinner We Will Rock You was born.

 

‘We Are the Champions’ and ‘We Will Rock You’ became the greatest anthems all around the world. Every day they heard their songs had been played at the finals of the Football World Cup or at important sport events.

 

Their music was being listened to all around the world. They were embarking on their first tour to South America and they still weren’t sure of the outcome. Will they be playing to thousands and thousands of people? Or will they be playing to just a handful?

 

After completing the first leg of the tour – all around the US again – they visited places they had only heard of a handful times in their lives. To their own surprise, they were huge in South America and the language wasn’t a barrier at all.

 

Brianna was the only one who between gigs, raising Jimmy while touring and performing for thousands and even millions, took some time to learn some of the language. The journalists were really kind and appreciated the fact one of them could engage in a press conference and speak their language.

 

Back home, Queen was being praised for becoming the top English rock band in the world, but also being criticised for touring with a baby who was almost one year old. Tabloids published pictures of Brianna on stage wearing tight silky shirts, the first three or four buttons undone revealing the valley between her breast. There were stories around her and Roger about the way they raised their son who – thank God and Miami for being the best lawyer in the world – no newspaper or tabloid had a picture of. They had successfully managed to keep Jimmy out the eyes of the journalists and the paparazzi’s cameras.

 

Brianna said nothing when said newspapers were brought to them. Together with the drummer, they care little about what other people said. They knew how they were raising their son. Jimmy was safely being taken care of by them in between gigs. Brianna was still feeding him before every gig and immediately after, if he was still awake. The nanny they had hired looked after him while they played and rehearsed. Then, Jimmy was most of the time with them, playing with an old drumstick which used to belong to Roger during the Smile era.

 

“Today’s our last gig, Jimmy,” Brianna said softly as she finished feeding her son. “Then mummy and daddy are taking you back home. Promise.”

 

“You’ve been reading those stupid things again, haven’t you?”

 

Brianna said nothing for a moment. She kissed her son’s golden curls and handed him to the nanny. “Call Paul if anything happens. Anything. Okay?”

 

“Yes, Miss May.”

 

“And remember –“

 

“He’ll be all right,” the nanny assured her with a smile.

 

They were inside the car which was taking them to the stadium. They were being looked after men in the military – courtesy from the dictator ruling in Argentina. It was scary, but the safest. While Freddie enjoyed being looked after those men who provided him with the privacy he had longed for, Roger resented them and had voiced his own concerns the moment it was suggested they met the dictator.

 

“Today’s the last one.” The drummer assured her as they made their way to the stage. “Tomorrow we’re flying back home.”

 

“Do you really think this is the best for James?” Brianna asked him, worried. “What if… what if they’re right?”

 

“Right about what?”

 

“About me being an awful mother,” the guitarist explained, buttoning her shirt right up to her throat.

 

The drummer moved her hands away and undid the first four buttons of her silky shirt. “Fuck ‘em. You’re the best mum in the world.”

 

“Rog?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“I love you.”

 

“I love you too.”

 

“Always have.”

 

“Always will,” Roger finished for her and pressed one last kiss to her lips as they were announced by no one else but the football star of the moment Diego Maradona.

 

 

…

 

 

_December, 1980_

 

“Freddie, as the leader of Queen do you feel responsible for the success of the band?”

 

From her seat next to Freddie at the end of the table, Brianna could feel the murderous look Roger was throwing at the journalist’s direction.

 

“I’m not the leader of Queen. I’m only the lead singer.”

 

To her and Roger’s relief, most of the questions did not involve their family any more. They had stopped asking questions the moment both said ‘no comments’ every time they asked about James or their relationship. They had been adamant this conference to present their latest record ‘Hot Space’ was to be only about music.

 

But the last thing journalists were asking about was music.

 

The questions varied from whether Freddie had ever doubted his talent to why he had never got his teeth fixed.

 

“Why don’t you get your manners fixed? That’s an asshole question to ask anybody.”

 

Brianna couldn’t help but agree with him. “That’s an asshole question.”

 

They had heard worse. Immediately after they had released ‘News of The World’ she was asked how she had managed to ‘get back on shape’ after giving birth. Ever since that moment, Brianna wore large bomber jackets that hid her torso and dark trousers.

 

The moment they asked about ‘Life is Real’ and whether it implied “ _the more partners you have_ the more changes you have of… contracting something”, Brianna felt a knife was being thrusted deep into her heart the moment Freddie said the question was perhaps for Roger.

 

_The more partners you have._

 

Little did anyone in the band knew they were facing the journalists as Queen for the last time. And that the family they were was about to break.

 

“Watch it.”

 

Brianna dismissed the comment, but not Paul Prenter, who was standing near the table.

 

“Anyone want to talk about the album?” Brianna asked, faking a smile.

 

The cracks were visible the moment a journalist asked Freddie about the rumours concerning his sexuality. Freddie no longer seemed unpreoccupied about the matter. Brianna and Deacy exchanged looks the moment the situation got heated and out of control.

 

And they finally called it off the moment Brianna said no more.

 

They made their way outside, closely followed by their shouting and the flashes of their cameras.

 

“I think I want to throw up.”

 

“What?”

 

Brianna had barely made it to the room next to the one where the press conference took place when she emptied her stomach on the floor.

 

“Bri, you okay?”

 

Deacy handed Brianna a napkin as Roger knelt next to her and helped her pulling her curls off her face.

 

“Love?”

 

“Yeah. Just the press conference.”

 

“They are sick,” Freddie said, slamming some vodka down his throat. “I want to leave.”

 

They knew something was wrong the moment Paul took Freddie out and both left without a word. The Freddie they had always known was no longer the Freddie they had shared a press conference with. This Freddie was no longer the independent, kind, funny, warm Freddie who invited them over to his new house for dinner, for drinks, to lunches with their kids.

 

Freddie, who had been made John and Brianna and Roger’s children’s godfather barely saw them.

 

Had they known the life as they knew it for the last ten years was about to change, they wouldn’t have believed a word of it. Because that bad feeling Brianna had years ago at Rockfield farm was coming back.

 

They were going to be betrayed by the man they believed was like a brother to them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your comments and kudos! They make my day! 
> 
> Remember you can come and visit me at myfourmisfits.tumblr.com and ask questions. Someone asked me whether I'm covering the time in between Freddie signing a solo deal and Live Aid: I DEFINITELY am. I'll be also exploring Brianna and Roger's solo projects and... their growing family! (in the form of a sequel). 
> 
> Stay tuned!


	24. I Don't Need Anyone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Hot Space" seems to have done more than increasing the arguments between the band because Freddie is determined to break up his family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait. To apologise, I present you with the longest chapter ever (almost 5K long!).  
> This chapter had at least like ten different versions. I'm not even pleased with the final result.  
> 

_January, 1981_

 

“We can’t slow down!”

 

“Well, I’m trying to slow it down.”

 

“But it doesn’t need slowing down, for _fuck_ ’s sake!” Roger hit his cymbals angrily, making everyone in the studio, even his three-year-old son, wince at the ear-splitting sound. “God… it’s creeping at the moment!”

 

John rolled his eyes comically, making little Jimmy laugh heartily. The little boy was sitting on the couch in the studio, sucking his bottle and looking with curious eyes the exchange between his parents.

 

Roger was behind his drums, hitting his toms and cymbals frantically and arguing the pacing Brianna was setting for the song was too slow. John, if asked, would say he had to agree with the drummer. _Hammer to Fall_ was pure rock ‘n roll and the pacing Brianna wanted was too slow for such a great song.

 

“God, it was _so_ slow! And it was getting even slower. You always try to play like this. I never… fuck!”

 

“I’m playing exactly what’s written.“

 

“Alright, I’ll follow you!”

 

Freddie was nowhere to be seen _again_. They had agreed to meet and start working on a few songs which had been left out from “Hot Space” so they could release an album the following summer, but they had heard no word from the lead singer.

 

Actually, to contact Freddie, they had to go through his own lawyer, and then Paul Prenter, and then maybe, just maybe, they could talk to Freddie on the phone.

 

Slowly, they were drifting apart. They no longer felt the family they used to be. “Hot Space” broke them apart. The arguments, which had always ended up with an agreement between the band members, now ended up being heated discussions with one of them, if not all, leaving not before slamming some doors.

 

That was the reason why Brianna started taking Jimmy to the recording studio. Roger’s anger issues were getting out of hand. Before, she only had to rest a hand on his shoulder, squeeze his hands, maybe press a kiss to his cheek or lips to bring him down again. This time Roger was breaking his drumsticks, sometimes pushing his whole kit down, storming out the studio, and some nights he didn’t even make it home.

 

However, Jimmy’s presence was not helping. Brianna knew there were things she was not aware of. Freddie’s absences, John’s silences, Roger’s anger issues… they were all keeping her up every night, wondering where they family they used to be was now.

 

“When we edited the song –“

 

“Fuck you and your stupid song! I’m not playing it! Get yourself another drummer for all I care!”

 

Roger pushed down his kit and stormed off the studio, not turning back when Brianna called his name, or when Jimmy ran after him, tripped over some wires and fell literally on his face.

 

“Hey, come on, don’t cry, Jimmy,” Brianna cooed the little three-year-old and held him in her arms and pressed a kiss to his forehead. “It was nothing, baby. See? Does it hurt now that mummy kissed it?”

 

“Want daddy.”

 

“Daddy had to go,” Brianna lied. “I need to pick daddy’s kit. Think you can stay here for a few minutes? We’ll go home soon.”

 

“Okay.”

 

Brianna was the only one allowed to lay a finger on Roger’s drumkit. With Deacy’s help, she managed to set it up again in just a few minutes.

 

The guitarist turned to see her son safely playing with a few toys on the floor. “Thanks, John.”

 

“Let’s call it a day. We can’t do much without Rog or Fred.”

 

“Hmm.”

 

“Bri?”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Everything alright?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“You sure?”

 

“Yes,” She faked a smile.

 

Deacy patted her back softly. “Have you told Roger about the baby?”

 

“Not yet.”

 

“I bet he’s gonna be thrilled.”

 

To his surprise, Brianna let out a long sigh as her eyes were on the floor. She started placing her beloved Red Special on the case and picking up Jimmy’s toys, which were all scattered on the floor and on the drum risers.

 

“Rog and I… we’re going through a hard patch.” The guitarist almost whispered, trying to keep her words from her son. “He’s drinking more. Sometimes doesn’t come back home.”

 

Again, John found herself there. Memories from that night in which he found Brianna lying on the floor, almost naked, with what looked like a broken nose and a bleeding wound came back to him. Long years have passed and even though they had never again heard a word from Tim Staffell, John knew Brianna as if she were his sister.

 

He knew she was suffering.

 

“Have you… talked about it?”

 

“Yes. Says he can control it. I know he can. But it’s just…” Jimmy was pulling at Brianna’s jeans, raising his short arms and asking to be picked up. “I have a bad feeling, John. I feel it here.” She said as she rested a hand on her chest and placed Jimmy on her hip.

 

…

 

That night, Brianna was in the living room of the house Roger had bought for themselves in the early weeks of their relationship reading science magazines, trying to catch up with the latest advances in the astrophysics field. There were some interesting articles. An old acquaintance had published another article and Brianna wondered if she would ever have the chance to go back to astrophysics, complete her doctorate, do something with all the things she had learnt about physics, chemistry and astronomy.

 

After dinner and after checking her son was fast asleep, Brianna ventured into the basement where she found, in cardboard boxes, all the research and the beginning of her doctoral dissertation. There was dust everywhere, and it made her long for her days in the library checking books or ‘stealing’ them, as Roger used to joke.

 

She missed the lectures, the old professors who ill advised her a study on interplanetary dust would be too difficult to accomplish and was surely going to take her years and years to complete.

 

Brianna accepted they were right because it took her so long she couldn’t complete it before Queen took off and they met John Reid. But now, sitting on her bed, reading her old notes, the scratches of a dissertation she never completed, she realised that if she didn’t do something about her relationship with Roger, they and their life together would one day end up in one of those cardboard boxes in a basement. Their moments, those little moments in between raising their son and playing and touring the world with Queen would be over.

 

They were actually going through something else than a ‘hard patch’, as she had told Deacy. Before, during and after “Hot Space”, Brianna knew they had started tearing themselves apart, having useless and stupid arguments. Deacy and Freddie were right, their original sounds were now in the past. Disco was taking over. They had to reinvent themselves. But not because of the sales or to increase their slices of royalties, but to keep on being the band and the family they had always been.

 

But that family no longer existed. They had got to the point in which they had to make a bloody appointment with Freddie to talk to him. If they wanted to get together and jam, try some song writing or just get together and discuss band related stuff, Miami had to call Paul Prenter and ‘check if Freddie had some time in his tight schedule’.

 

What was happening?

 

Roger’s band “The Cross” was big – and so the drummer was taking advantage of it. Brianna was proud of him. His songs were really powerful, and he used his solo projects to develop ideas, rhythms and new sounds she found really interesting.

 

But now Roger spent more and more time in his own studio and in different bars and clubs and the press was talking about it. Some tabloids published a piece of news about herself leaving Roger and Queen. Brianna remembered talking to her parents on the phone reassuring them it was bollocks, she was in the house with Jimmy and that Roger was not having those affairs the press said he had. Yes, they had even published a picture of Debbie Harry sitting on his lap but nothing had happened.

 

Brianna had no one to talk about her feelings. She had incredible friends outside the music world. John and Ronnie were always for her when Roger toured with his band. But the guitarist felt there was no one who could understand her fears as a woman. No one would understand how insecure she was, and how she felt the love Roger once said he felt for her was no longer the same.

 

The guitarist checked the clock on the wall again. It was past midnight. It was late, past midnight when Roger came into their room, on tip toes, wearing his favourite pair of shades and his hair a whole mess. Brianna chose to ignore that. The drummer looked relatively sober when their eyes met.

 

“You are s’pposed to be sleeping.”

 

“Yes, I suppose I am.”

 

“Jimmy?”

 

“Staying the night at my parents.”

 

“Oh.” The drummer sat on his side of the bed and started taking his clothes off. “Why’s that?”

 

“We need to talk, Rog.”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“What are these?” Roger asked, his hands taking the notes close enough to his eyes for him to be able to see. This made Brianna roll her eyes. She had told him countless times he had to go see a doctor and do something about his eyesight.

 

“Rog, I need to tell you something.”

 

The drummer covered his body with the heavy blankets. “Yeah, before you say anything, I’m sorry ‘bout today,” Roger began, turning on his side to face her. “for talking to you like that and leaving.”

 

Brianna said nothing for a moment. “It’s okay.”

 

She took the old notebooks to her bedside and joined Roger on their bed. Soon she felt his strong arms embracing her, pulling her closer to him. The guitarist closed her eyes and took a deep breath, allowing herself to feel his warm body again. 

 

“But that song doesn’t need to be slow, love,” Roger began. “It’s pure rock ‘n roll!”

 

Brianna chuckled. “We can discuss the song tomorrow.”

 

“We can do it now. What d’ya say, love?” Roger whispered seductively as his hands ventured under the covers and under her silky nightgown, the one he loved so much because it was too short for her, it exposed her long legs and her pale chest and neck.

 

Soon, a hand was pulling at the straps as his lips were on her neck, where he knew Brianna loved to be kissed. “Love?”

  

“Rog, I need to tell you something.”

 

“Can’t it wait?” He was now on top of her, between her long legs when Brianna took her face with both hands and pressed a shy kiss to his lips.

 

That’s when he knew it.

 

“I’m pregnant, Rog.”

 

“What?”

 

Brianna nodded. She was smiling widely when she threw her arms around the drummer’s neck. “We’re having a baby.”

 

“Another one?”

 

“Yes!”

 

His expression changed. It softened. If before he was thinking of making love to Brianna, now he was thinking of kissing her senselessly and thanking her for making him the happiest man on earth.

 

“I love you, Rog. Always have. Always will.”

 

The drummer kissed her passionately before looking into her eyes. “I love you, Bri.”

 

…

 

_February, 1981_

 

Three-year-old Jimmy laughed and sang along the music video. He was moving his head to the rhythm of the music as his blue eyes took in every detail. His mummy was wearing a checked robe and a fake moustache. Her curly hair was gone and Jimmy remembered being in her mother’s arms when the hairdresser put on a wig and covered mummy’s curls.

 

“God knows!” Jimmy sang along and laughed when he saw his daddy wearing a skirt. “Mummy! Mummy, look! Mummy you’re on telly! And daddy too!”

 

Brianna emerged from the kitchen wearing an apron and pulling her long curls off her face. She smiled the moment her eyes met Jimmy’s, who was jumping up and down on the sofa, singing along the song and laughing every time Roger was on the screen wearing a wig and a skirt.

 

They’d had so much fun while filming that video! Brianna couldn’t remember enjoying herself that much. Roger had come up with the idea of dressing in drag, something he had been thinking about ever since watching Coronation Street one afternoon.

 

So they went to the studios and dressed themselves in drag. Deacy was the old granny, Freddie the woman who wished she had a better life, Roger was a naughty teenager wearing a school uniform – thighs and skirt – and she was the grumpy dad.

 

Jimmy went with them and remained silent when the cameras were rolling. Behind the cameras, Paul sat with Jimmy on his lap. The PA was really friendly with the little boy, and both Brianna and Roger trusted him to look after him when they were recording or filming and the nanny couldn’t look after their son.

 

“See there, Jimmy?” Paul pointed at Freddie, who was getting his wig fixed. “That’s uncle Freddie.”

 

Everyone in the UK loved _I Want to Break Free_. And in Europe. In every single TV or radio interview they had, they were asked about the video, how they came up with the idea, if they liked dressing in drag, why Roger played the naughty teenager and not Brianna.

 

But they were being banned in the US. Before being fired, John Reid had sent them some American newspapers. All of them – including Brianna – were accused of “corrupting the youth of America”. The song and the video received negative reactions from the media to the parents who apparently gave their children money to buy their records. They had even heard of religious leaders in America asking people to stop buying their records or even worse – set up a fire and burn them all.

 

They didn’t get the gist. Coronation Street wasn’t known in America, so Brianna didn’t blame them - but it was the eighties. She remembered how homosexuality was condemned when she was a child but now things were different. It wasn’t even illegal to be gay nowadays.

 

Miami, now their new manager, had tried to pull some strings, but MTV was boycotting them and would not broadcast their music videos.

 

“Paul called.” Roger announced, joining his son on the sofa and running a hand through his wild blonde curls. “Says Freddie wants to meet us.”

 

Brianna frowned. “Jimmy, go and wash your hands, baby.”

 

“But mummy!”

 

“Wash your hands. C’mon, son.”

 

As soon as James was out of earshot, Brianna snuggled close to the drummer. “I think I’m ready to tell everyone.”

 

“What d’you think is gonna be this time?”

 

"Dunno."

 

“I think it’s a girl." Roger kissed her lips and slid a hand under her tee until it was resting safely on her tiny baby bump. “A girl with your lips,” the drummer kissed her deeply. “a little girl with your nose,” he proceeded to press a chaste kiss to the tip of her nose. “the most beautiful girl in the world.”

 

Soon after that dreadful press conference in which they were supposed to talk about their latest record, Brianna and Roger discovered they were expecting again. This time Brianna suffered all the symptoms – morning sickness, she missed her periods and had some cravings.

 

Brianna could still remember the night Roger said they should have another baby.

 

This time they took all the time of the world. Roger’s lips explored Brianna’s body as his hands undressed her very slowly. They’d been together as a couple for almost four years and he still felt mesmerised by her body, her soft skin, the way she seemed to melt under his touch, and the sounds which escaped her mouth every time he kissed the most erogenous zones in her body.

 

His mouth soon found her nipples and he sucked slowly at first, opening his eyes and looking into hers. He left a trail of kisses down her stomach until his tongue teased the most intimate part of her body.

 

Brianna was panting, literally melting on their bed, being the most vocal he had ever heard. Some minutes after coming, she crawled on the bed and was sucking him off lovingly and then so erotically that Roger felt he was about to finish and would not be able to make love to her as he had planned to do.

 

“On your back,” he whispered, making himself comfortable between her legs, kissing her lips. “I want to see your face.”

 

“Stop teasing,” Brianna said as her hands were on his shoulders, pressing him against her, trying to feel as much of his skin as possible. “C’mon, Rog.”

 

“So wet for me.”

 

“Rog.”

 

“You’re very demanding.”

 

“I love you.” Brianna whispered against his lips. They looked into each other’s eyes when she smiled at him locked her ankles behind his lower back.

 

“We should have another one.”

 

“Another what?”

 

“Another baby.”

 

Brianna pushed Roger back until she was sitting on their bed. Her expression changed from pure lust to worriedness. “You can’t just say that now.”

 

“Why ever not?”

 

“Because if you’d said it before…” Brianna pulled the drummer closer to her. “I’d have stopped taking my pills.”

 

“Is that a yes?”

 

“What d’you think, Mr Taylor?”

 

“Pity I didn’t say it before,” Roger whispered, entering her softly, until he was completely inside her. “Now we’ll have to try so, so many times.”

 

Brianna was melting underneath him when she pulled him closer for a kiss. “I love you.”

 

A month later Brianna knew she was expecting again.

 

 

…

 

 

_March, 1981_

 

“Can’t wait to tell Fred the news.”

 

“And Deacy.”

 

“He already knows.”

 

“What? When?” Roger asked surprised, his eyes still on the road. “Hold on – did you tell Deacy before me?”

 

Brianna grinned. “He kind of suspected.”

 

“Fuck, how could he tell?”

 

“He’s got three children, Rog,” Brianna rolled her eyes. “And it seems Ronnie’s expecting again.”

 

“Again?” Roger laughed. “Shit. Those two can’t stop having children.”

 

When they arrived, they were greeted by Paul. He was all smiles the moment he presented them with a tray with cups of tea for everyone, Roger and Deacy’s favourite cigarettes and Brianna’s favourite pastries.

 

“Freddie will see you in a moment.”

 

Despite having improved their relationship, Roger hated Paul – from time to time. When Brianna was pregnant, Freddie’s PA was kind enough to check there was always an ambulance with a doctor every time they had a presentation. Paul had even hired extra people to pull a stool near Brianna every time they played, in case she grew tired, as Brianna decided to continue performing until she was almost seven months pregnant.

 

Brianna had told Roger she felt Paul was now that old Paul they met years ago. But something inside Roger told him not to trust the Irish fully.

 

Roger’s suspicions grew the moment Freddie distanced himself more and more from them. When they used to get all together at Garden Lodge almost every weekend, now Freddie barely welcomed them into their house. Freddie, who was Jimmy’s godfather barely saw him.

 

Freddie, who was Roger’s best friend, barely talked to the drummer at all.

 

“Hello, Fred,” Brianna was the first to speak to the singer. “have you been?”

 

Deacy followed. “Hi, Fred.”

 

“Fred.”

 

“The youth of America…” Freddie began, and Brianna, Roger and Deacy exchanged looks. “We helped give birth to MTv.”

 

Brianna crossed her long legs. “You know what they’re all like, Fred. They are Americans. They are puritans in public, perverts in private.”

 

“I’m never touring in the US again.”

 

Brianna noticed the least worried about Freddie’s statement was Deacy, who actually wrote the song which seemed to have ended their relationship with America. Roger was rolling his eyes, knowing once Miami told them how much money they could earn touring the US could give them, Freddie would be the first to say they should go and tour from coast to coast.

 

“I’m the one being blamed for it. Not you, dear, whose idea I believe it was to dress up in drag,” Freddie began, being Roger his first target. Then, he turned to Brianna, who was wearing an oversized shirt, large enough to cover her bump. “Not you.” And finally, the lead singer turned to Deacy. “Not even you, who wrote the bloody thing.”

 

Yes, _I Want to Break Free_ was a hit all around the world. In South America it was being picked as a liberation anthem. People in the UK and Europe laughed at it, making the connection between Coronation Street and the video.

 

But America was condemning them for the lyrics, the video, themselves in drag, Brianna as a man, and Freddie pretending to clean the floor while wearing a wig, make-up, earrings, a bra, a leather skirt, thighs, and high heeled shoes.

 

No one really knew the story behind the song, if it even had one. John came up with it one day, told Roger how he wanted the drums, told Brianna what to do with her guitar, played his own bass, and then told Freddie to sing it the way he liked it. That was how it was born. The video came up later, when Roger was too bored to do anything else but turn on the TV and watch a soap opera. He had insisted on being the naughty girl. He had even shaved his legs and Brianna found it the funniest music video they had ever made.

 

“ _Crazy_ , cross-dressing Freddie. Freddie the _freak_. Freddie the _fag_ …”

 

Yes, probably Freddie was right. It had never crossed their minds Freddie would be the only one picked for dressing in drag, given the fact he was seen frequenting gay clubs and discos. Ever since breaking up his engagement to Mary an embracing a brand new look with moustache which was, apparently, considered to be gay, the press had been speculating about Freddie’s private life.

 

“I’m tired of touring… aren’t you?” This made Brianna frown and turn. Deacy and Roger exchanged looks. From his spot in a corner, Paul Fucking Prenter was grinning. “Album, tour, album, tour… I want to do something different.”

 

“We’re a band, Fred. This is what bands do. Album, tour, album, tour -”

 

“I need a break. I’m sick of it.”

 

Deacy seemed to be the only one picking up the clues. “What are you saying, Freddie?”

 

With a hand on her bump, Brianna watched Freddie and Paul exchanging looks. Roger saw it too. His hands turned into fists. Suddenly, all the anger he had against Paul and that he’d been containing for a long time was about to explode.

 

“I signed a deal with CBS Records.”

 

“You’ve done what?”

 

“Without telling us?” Roger spitted.

 

“What kind of deal?”

 

“Look, I’m not saying we’re not recording or touring again. Queen will go on… But I need to do something different… I need… I need to grow. Like John’s song… what was it like? About the wings.”

 

John nodded. “Spread my wings and fly away.” He quoted his own song.

 

“A solo album?” Brianna asked, just checking whatever Freddie had said was true or not. She hoped it wasn’t.

 

“Two, actually, Bri dear,” Paul interrupted, sipping his disgusting tea. “Back to back.”

 

Ever since knowing he was going to be a father again, Roger was trying to make up for his absences at home. He had decided to put his solo work on hold, stay home, leave the bars and clubs, focus on his family first and on Queen. He had even seen a doctor and got the bloody glasses Brianna insisted he wore when he drove. His anger issues were controlled. He took to walk more and more around the calm neighbourhood they lived in with Jimmy, sometimes with Brianna. He had stopped smoking and drinking.

 

He had lived the 70s as a single man, not caring much for anything but his music and women. The 80s, he had thought, were about his family. He was marrying Brianna, having another child. He had Queen, his own band. He made TV appearances and was featured in several magazines. Fame had given him more than money. Fame had given them all power, statue. Behind they left their market stall, trying to make ends meet.

 

Fame had given them access to many things, but the one who had changed completely was Freddie.

 

And now he wanted to know how much money he was getting.

 

“It’ll take years, Freddie.”

 

“I don’t believe this.” Roger announced. “How much?” Silence. “What did they pay you?”

 

Freddie looked at Paul.

 

“I wanna know how much they paid you!”

 

“Four million dollars!”

 

Deacy was the first to make the numbers in his head. Deacy, who was the one who always oversaw how much they were getting, despite having one of the best accountants in the country working for the band, was the first to tell the money the company was giving Freddie was more than they actually did all together as Queen.

 

“The routine is killing us! You must all want a break from all the arguments! Whose songs gets on the album… whose song is the single… who wrote what… who gets a bigger slice of the royalties. You _must_ want a break.”

 

With a hand cradling her bump, Brianna wondered if this was the best moment to announce she was expecting and therefore their family was growing again. The Queen family. “We’re a family, Fred – “

 

“No, we’re not! We’re not a _family_!” The singer cut her off. “You’re a family. Deacy’s got a wife and children too. What have I got?”

 

Brianna felt little teas in her eyes.

 

“You’ve got four million dollars. Perhaps you can buy yourself a family.” Deacy snorted.

 

“I won’t compromise my vision any longer.”

 

“Compromise? Are you joking?” Roger asked angrily, as the news sank in. “You worked at Heathrow before we gave you a chance!”

 

Brianna’s eyes followed Freddie as he turned and started walking towards them from his spot near the windows. “And without me you’d be a dentist,” He almost spat at Roger. “Drumming blues at the weekend in filthy old pubs. And you,” Freddie turned to Brianna, ignoring the inevitable, her bump which seemed to have grown in the minutes between the first time he saw her until now. “And you’d be _Doctor_ Brianna May, author of a fascinating dissertation on the cosmos… that _no one_ ever reads.” Brianna’s gaze, which had been on Freddie the whole time, was on the floor now.

 

The guitarist went deaf. She could no longer listen to whatever Freddie told Deacy. Instead, she hoped this was a very bad joke. This man, this Freddie could not have told her such hurtful things. He couldn’t have, especially when he was one of the first people she confided in the day she decided to drop her studies to pursue her dreams and become a musician. It was Freddie to told her they were waiting for her. They could put Queen on hold and wait until she finished her doctorate.

 

And now he was rubbing it on her face.

 

“You just killed Queen.”

 

Freddie was walking inside when Brianna tried one last time. “You need us, Freddie. More than you know. We’re a family.”

 

“I don’t need anyone.”

 

The last thing Brianna remembered about that meeting was Deacy storming off, Roger taking her to his car, and finally herself crying in his arms because her family wasn’t only Roger and Jimmy or her parents, or Roger’s sweet mum and his sister Claire. Her family was Freddie, John, Roger and herself. They had told the first person interested in them, John Reid, that they were a family. They had been for so many years, almost like a lifetime for Brianna.

 

And now that family was gone forever.

 

From his bedroom window, Freddie watched Brianna crying in Roger’s arms.

 

“Have you noticed?” Paul asked him, already preparing his bags to take him to Munich where he was recording his solo album. “She’s pregnant.”

 

“Hmm.”

 

“It had to be done, Freddie.”

 

“Yeah.”

 

Before turning, Freddie watched Roger kicking his car and finally leaving.  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter should be the last one. Don't worry! There will be a sequel - not as long as this fic turned out to be - which will be covering the period between Freddie going to Munich up to Live Aid.
> 
> I'd like to thank my friend Claire for doing research with me, feeding me with ideas, and making this collage with pictures she took from IG. I wish I could thank those people for the pictures. You can take a look at it here: myfourmisfits.tumblr.com


	25. Driven by you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Queen is left to pick up the pieces of the family they used to be. Brianna and Roger welcome their second child and decide it is time to move on and leave things and people behind forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is the final chapter! Sorry it took me so long - but life's a bitch sometimes. This chapter was particularly difficult to write and I have like ten different versions - this one is like a Frankenstein, made up of different parts haha.  
> There will be a sequel up in a couple of days, watch out! It won't be as long as this one (ten chapters I think) and it will cover the period between the birth of Brianna and Roger's second child up to Live Aid. 
> 
> Thanks to everyone who followed this! Every comment filled my heart and put a smile on my face :)

_ Late March - Early April, 1981 _

 

Miami didn’t know where to begin. His eyes were on the multiple documents on his desk, all of them signed by Freddie himself. The lawyer had already broken the news to the left members of Queen and now they had to move on to the topic of what to do with what Freddie left – and how to keep the press out.

 

“If you get to finish recording before the end of this month, the album should be out in June.” The lawyer finally looked up and met the left members of Queen – minus Freddie – looking defeated, still not believing Freddie’s latest move before installing himself in Munich.

 

“We can’t tour without…, shit.” Roger sighed and almost threw the documents on the mahogany desk. “We can’t tour without  _ him _ . How are we expected to release an album if we can’t tour? Journalists will start asking questions.”

 

Miami nodded, already acquainted with what managing a band entailed. Bands recorded, released an album, toured the world, then came back, recorded again, released another album, toured the world again, came back… He’d been their lawyer for years so he’d seen them doing the same thing over and over.

 

Roger was right, they could not release an album and  _ not _ tour. This time they could not limit themselves to tour the UK only as they had done before in the past. Now they could definitely not tour because their lead singer had just left them without any explanations, leaving recording for songs to release an album and his permission to release another with their greatest hits.

 

Freddie had planned the whole thing.

 

“I know you’re not going to like this,” Miami began, hands already on the air, his eyes on both the May-Taylor couple, recently featured on some music magazines as the most powerful couple in the rock ‘n roll world. “but the only cover up I can think of right now is Brianna’s pregnancy.”

 

“No.”

 

Brianna placed a hand on his thigh. “Rog.”

 

“No fucking way!” Roger almost kicked the table. “We’re not telling the press she’s pregnant. We agreed on this, Miami. We had it all set up with you and the hospital.”

 

Miami nodded, remembering that only a month ago both Brianna and Roger had asked to see him to discuss something private, which had nothing to do with the band. It was between some cups of tea that they told Miami they were expecting again and wished to hire his services privately to set up an agreement with a private hospital so Brianna’s pregnancy would go unnoticed to the press.

 

Brianna and Roger hadn’t told Deacy or Freddie the news yet, but both knew Queen could stop for a few months until Brianna gave birth and decided she was ready to tour. Their plan was to record, release an album, and tour the following year. But to do so, they wanted Miami to draft the documents, set up a meeting with the private hospital and see how they could help them keep their family and the news private.

 

Brianna had already experienced her fair share with the press during her first pregnancy when immediately after confirming she was expecting a child with drummer Roger Taylor, she was asked whether the child had been conceived while they were on tour, and while her then husband Chris Mullen was in the UK.

 

Now they also wanted to protect their children – because they didn’t want them to grow up and one day see they embarrassing pictures of them or the tabloids making up stories. Both Brianna and Roger wanted to give their children a normal upbringing in between tours.

 

But now it seemed they didn’t need to worry about that any more.

 

“Miami’s right,” Brianna finally admitted. “We’ll have to release a statement. We can say I need to rest… Say Roger and Freddie will both focus on their solo projects in the meantime…”

 

“I can have the statement written for tomorrow. I’ll send it to you first. Once it’s approved, we’ll release it together with the following album.”

 

Hiding behind his dark shades, Roger said noting. He kept his eyes on the multiple documents Freddie had left before leaving. The singer had the nerve to leave recordings for the following album they were supposed to release together.

 

And it seemed Freddie had been planning his exit from the band well in advance, because there were documents he had drafted with his own lawyer in which he gave his permission to release a new album with the recordings left, and another one with their “greatest hits”.

 

“He had it all fucking planned.”

 

“It seems so,” Deacy said, his hands already on the books with numbers and figures. Next to Miami was their accountant, observing Deacy going through different papers. “He had even set the time release,” the bassist pointed out. “If this new album is released now, the other should be released within the next two years.”

 

Brianna’s hands, which so far had been cradling her bump, were soon reaching for the document Deacy was reading. “What do you mean, John?”

 

“He left some songs recorded…  _ Radio Ga Ga _ and  _ Hammer to Fall _ and some others which were left out “Hot Space”, Deacy began. “And then he left this,” He handed Brianna and Roger another document. “It basically states he’s given us and Miami his permission to release a compilation album or “greatest hits”. Freddie also signed a document…” John let out a long sigh. “ _ allowing _ us to go on TV and promote the albums  _ on his behalf _ .”

 

“Hold on,” Roger pulled off his shades angrily. “Are you saying he wants us to fucking go on TV and promote the albums? What for? So he can get the biggest slice of our royalties?”

 

John nodded. “Yes.”

 

“Bloody hell.”

 

“There’s nothing I can do, guys,” admitted Miami, defeated. Freddie’s sudden exit from the band hurt him as much as it hurt Roger, Brianna and John themselves. “legally speaking, he’s still a member of the band – meaning he has the right to have a say in all dealings.”

 

“We have no legal recourse?” Brianna asked, feeling her baby moving, already too early for her, but feeling it moving was the only thing that kept her sane in the midst of the legal fight they were about to embark.

 

“No. Unless you officially decide to break up the band.”

 

There was silence. Deacy’s eyes were on the gold discs hanging behind Miami, wondering where was Freddie, how he could have set up such a perfect masterplan to get them all fucked up right now and if he would ever go back to playing with his family.

 

Roger took Brianna’s hand under the table and gave it a soft squeeze as his blue orbs were on hers, trying to decipher what was going on inside her curly head. He wanted to go find Freddie and kick the shit out of him for being so mean to Brianna, for breaking their family, for treating them as if they were his musicians when they had always been Queen. A family.

 

“How shall we proceed?” Miami insisted.

 

…

 

_ June, 1981 _

 

“Have I told you grandpa and I built this guitar?” Brianna asked her son sweetly as she finished polishing her guitar. She smiled at Jimmy’s face the moment he realised what his mother meant.

 

“ _ Really _ ? You and grandpa made it?”

 

Brianna planted a kiss to his blonde head and smiled at him. “That’s right. We made it. It took us three years.”

 

Jimmy looked at his mother amazed. “Wow! Three years?”

 

“Hmm. Three years. Then grandpa taught me how to play it.”

 

“Grandpa plays too?”

 

“Well, used to.”

 

“I’m gonna ask grandpa to make me one too!”

 

Brianna laughed. She loved spending every minute of the day with her son, take him to their vast backyard and teach him the name of the various flowers and plants they had, how to water them, tell him all about hedgehogs and why it was so important to love and take care of nature and animals.

 

In the afternoons, while Jimmy napped, Brianna went back to her old books about astrophysics. With Roger’s help, she had unearthed two big boxes full of books she was determined to read all over again.

 

The words, the terms and the concepts came to her easily. Brianna knew that it was going to be difficult to go back to her doctorate program now that she had a toddler and was welcoming another child soon, but she needed to keep her mind away from music.

 

Brianna needed to forget all about Queen.

 

It was hard enough to turn on the telly and watch Roger and Deacy going to various TV programmes and discussing their new album, saying they decided to stop for a while because she was welcoming a new baby and all of them wanted to focus on their solo projects.

 

None knew for how long the press would be buying such a lie. Deacy had refused Roger's invitation to join The Cross and many other offers to collab with other bands or work as the recording label as mentor for young singers and musicians and was spending time at home with his family, occasionally travelling abroad on holidays with Ronnie and their kids. 

 

But there was Roger, smiling for the cameras, answering the journalists’ questions, telling them all lies about Queen – and replacing the real facts with things about their private life.

 

Even Deacy, who had always hated sharing things about his family, was telling the journalists things about his kids, about Ronnie – all of it only to avoid discussing Freddie’s absence and sudden appearance in the gay scene in Munich.

 

“I’m gonna kick his teeth out of his mouth,” Roger once said, angrily, when one morning while having breakfast found an article about Freddie on the papers. “He and Paul can go and fuck each other for all I care.”

 

Freddie was in Brianna’s thoughts all day, every day. When Jimmy asked when was uncle Freddie coming again, when she came upon their records, Freddie’s face was the first one her eyes focused on. When discussing names with Roger, she remembered how much Freddie loved the name “Tiger” and had once even suggested she called her son Tiger instead of James.

 

Freddie had been her best friend. He was the one who helped her believe in herself. Freddie was the one who encouraged her to show more skin – who told her she could conquer the world if she wanted to. The singer was the one who told her she had to cling to the love she felt for Roger because that was the one true love.

 

And now he was gone.

 

Forever.

 

After placing her guitar in the case, Brianna stood up and took her son’s little hand with hers. Then, being the most careful, she took the case containing her guitar and started making her own way to the basement in the new house where Brianna and Roger had agreed on storing old clothes, some furniture, things they did not want to keep in the house.

 

“Grandpa helped me making it because we couldn’t afford one. Grandma helped too.”

 

“Why are we here, mummy?” Jimmy asked as he eyed the basement where his parents kept boxes of boxes all placed on top of others.

 

Brianna said nothing for a moment. She let the case rest on the floor as she looked at the dark place with sadness. There, they kept boxes with old clothes, some magazines from the times they were slowly making it big. Roger also kept his drumkit, that one with the “Smile” logo on it.

 

There, Brianna was leaving her beloved Red Special to never see it again.

 

Freddie’s departure had broken their spirits and hearts. Immediately after taking a decision with Miami, Deacy decided to stay home with his family and make up for the longs months he’d been away on tour, help Ronnie raise their kids. Roger decided to focus on his band and was already recording new songs. And while some bands had invited Brianna to join them for a collaboration and even help produce songs for a film, Brianna declined all offers, stating her health and baby came first.

 

But she was in perfect health. Her baby was safe.

 

Brianna lost all interest in music the day Freddie left. The truth was that Deacy left Miami’s office with tears in his eyes. Roger insulted Freddie and swore he’d kick the teeth out his mouth the day he saw him again.

 

And Brianna swore she’d never play her guitar again. With Freddie, the musician in her left. Died. What was only left of her was the scientist who was going back to astrophysics and co-authoring some papers. Brianna the mother was also there, trying to raise her son and trying to come up with more excuses when he asked why his godfather Freddie didn’t come to his birthday party.

 

“We’re going to leave the guitar here.”

 

“Why? You not gonna play anymore?”

 

“No,” Brianna said, her voice breaking. “No, I’m not playing any more.”

 

Jimmy watched her mother placing the case behind some boxes. He immediately ran to her the moment he noticed she was crying. The three-year-old clung to her as if his life depended on it. And when he was in her arms, he pressed a kiss to each of her crying eyes.

 

“Why you crying, mummy?”

 

“Because I’m going to miss my guitar.”

 

“Don’t leave it here,” Jimmy said, imitating her soothing tone. “Daddy says rubbish and old things go here.”

 

Brianna pressed Jimmy tightly against her chest, as much as her prominent belly allowed her to. “Let’s keep it a secret. Can you keep it secret for me?” Jimmy nodded. “Pinky promise?”

 

“Pinky promise.” Jimmy said, holding out his pinky for his mother.

 

“Now, should we start preparing the room for the baby?” Brianna said, faking a smile, and taking her son back upstairs. “Let’s see how much we can get done before daddy comes home from work. Would you like to help me, Jimmy?”

 

“Yes, mummy!”

 

Later, watching Jimmy choosing which teddy bears he was giving his brother or sister made Brianna forget all about her guitar. That night, when Roger came back and they surprised him with half the room decorated, full of toys, teddy bears, books with tales and a cradle, the drummer held her in his arms and said they were not stopping until they had as many children as Deacy had.

 

“But they have four.”

 

“We’re half way through.” Roger whispered, as he kissed her neck and his hands were already undressing her in their new bedroom after moving to a larger house far from London and from the people, press and journalist who could bother them.

 

“Hmm.”

 

“You okay?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Where’s your Red Special?”

 

“Why you ask?”

 

Roger shrugged. “Didn’t see it in the music room,” Roger said, talking about the room where they had decided to place their instruments when they moved to their new house.

 

“Basement.”

 

“What?”

 

“I’m not playing again.”

 

“What you mean you’re not playing again?”

 

“I mean what I said, Rog.” Brianna said, her eyes not on him, but rather on her prominent belly.

 

Roger walked to her until he was standing in front of her and both were facing the crib which had been placed near their bed, for the baby to sleep in the first days and weeks. “Is it because of  _ him _ ?”

 

“You know why.”

 

“Fuck ‘im, Bri.” The drummer almost spat, feeling the anger rise inside him. “Fuck Freddie. You’re gonna stop playing because of him? And what about my band?”

 

Brianna finally met his blue eyes. “I’m not joining The Cross, Rog.”

 

“Why ever not?”

 

“You’ve got a guitarist.”

 

“But you’re the best.”

 

“I’m not playing again, Rog.” Brianna repeated as she sat tiredly on their bed. She let out a long sigh and let her hands caress and cradle her baby bump. “Love, Rog…” Brianna whispered as she watched Roger sitting next to her. “Please, understand.”

 

“But you love making music.”

 

“I love you and Jimmy,” The guitarist said, cradling his face and kissing her lips. “And this baby. You’re all I want. You’re all I need. All I love.”

 

There were little tears in Brianna’s eyes the moment Roger kissed her lovingly, tenderly and looked into her eyes as the first time they kissed, years ago, while they were on tour in New York.

 

“You’re going to stop being who you are because of  _ him _ ?”

 

“I’m going to be the woman I’ve always wanted to be,” Brianna finally said, tears rolling down her face and landing on her stomach. “Your wife. The mother of my children. I’m going back to Astrophysics too,” She smiled weakly. “I’ll co-author some papers. Do some research. Maybe see if I can finish my doctorate.”

 

Roger kissed her again. “You sure about this?”

 

She nodded. “Yes.”

 

…

 

_ August, 1981 _

 

Things were different the day they welcomed their second child. For instance, Roger was frantically driving while Brianna was trying to breathe and Jimmy was furiously crying at the back.

 

“Jimmy, for the love of God –  _ please _ stop crying.”

 

“Mummy hurts!”

 

“I’m fine, Jimmy. It’s just – the baby… ugh, Roger I think it’s coming now!”

 

The drummer didn’t know how they made it to the hospital, but as soon as they arrived, Brianna was clinging to him as if her life depended on it and Jimmy wouldn’t stop crying.

 

Quickly, the guitarist was taken to a room where the doctors examined her and declared she had to wait a few more hours before she could give birth. In no time grandma and grandpa May were there to look after Jimmy while Roger spent some time alone with Brianna.

 

“Feeling any better?”

 

She shook her head. “Where’s Jimmy?”

 

“With your parents.”

 

“Has he stopped crying?” Roger nodded, tiredly. “The baby won’t stop moving,” Brianna whispered as she lifted the hospital gown she was given and took the drummer’s hand and placed it on her stomach. “can you feel it?”

 

Roger let his hand rest on her warm skin and feel his second child – still a mystery if it was a girl or a boy. While Brianna insisted it was another boy, he had the feeling this time they were having a girl, and he hoped it was a girl as beautiful as her mother.

 

Some time later, Roger lifted his hand and focused on the scar on Brianna’s stomach, near her left breast. He kissed it and remember that night in which after another successful show Brianna was attacked by Tim.

 

He remembered that night vividly. Roger could recall the look on Brianna’s face, the blood coming down her nose, the blood on her stomach and chest, the marks on her arms and legs and her bruised eye.

 

When they heard Deacy crying their names, they rushed to the place where they found her almost naked, crying, covered in blood and shaking.

 

It’d been long years, but he still blamed himself for not being him the one going for the beers, for leaving her alone that night.

 

Many things happened during those long years. Their struggles came to an end, they had recorded many albums, toured the world, were featured in tons of magazines all over the world. But Roger was sure he would give all the money, everything he had to go back to that night and spare Brianna that pain.

 

“We didn’t think of names –  _ again _ .”

 

Roger looked up and met her eyes. Her green eyes had little tears and she gave him a sweet smile.

 

“No, we didn’t. But we’ll know when she’s here.” he agreed.

 

Brianna chuckled. “She?”

 

“Yeah. It’s gonna be a girl.”

 

“It’s a boy.”

 

“A  _ girl _ . With your hair, eyes and nose.”

 

“I don’t think she’ll like my nose.”

 

“You’ve got a beautiful nose.” He decided to think of something else entirely. “Have you ever imagined this?” The drummer asked as his right hand caressed Brianna’s stomach under the medical gown she was given to give birth.

 

“Never. Have you?”

 

“Yeah.” Roger confessed. “Remember when… when you lost that baby at Rockfield?” The drummer asked softly, as if lowering his voice would make the memory hurt less. Brianna merely nodded her eyes down on her stomach. “We’d taken Prick Prenter’s car and we stopped to watch the sunrise. I remember holding you in my arms and kissing your curls, telling you everything was going to be okay.”

 

She gave his hand on her stomach a soft squeeze. “I remember, yes.”

 

“We stayed like that for minutes. I closed my eyes and just realised that I loved you. That I’ve always have.” He smiled and watched Brianna chuckling. “And up to that point I’ve never loved anyone in my life as much as I loved you.”

 

After spending something like four years together, Roger had never told Brianna the truth. He had never told her for how long and how much he had always loved her. Because it had taken Roger years to understand and realise he had always been in love with her. He had always looked after her and longed for her presence, her smile, her laugh, everything about her because he loved her.

 

Always had, always will.

 

“I’ve always loved you, Bri. Ever since that morning at Imperial,” Roger kissed her deeply. “and I don’t think I’ll ever stop loving you.”

 

“I love you so much...” Brianna felt the last kick which told her the baby was definitely coming now. She winced and her grip on Roger’s hand tightened. “God, Roger I love you so much.”

 

“Is she coming now?”

 

Brianna nodded. “Now.”

 

Less than half an hour later, Roger and Brianna were welcoming their second child into this world.

 

A baby girl who cried the second she was born and made the guitarist and the drummer the happiest in the world.

 

“Mummy!” Jimmy cried as soon as the door opened and he was finally allowed to meet his parents. “Grandma said the baby’s here!”

 

“Yes, she is,” Brianna whispered as Roger entered the room carrying a little bundle in his arms. “This is your little sister, Emily.”

 

Jimmy, who had sat next to Brianna on her bed, looked amazed at the little baby which was being placed in his mother’s arms.

 

“Won’t you say hello?”

 

“Hi, Emily,” Jimmy said shyly, as Roger pressed a kiss to his mummy’s lips.

 

“We decided to call her Emily Ruth,” Roger explained, turning to his parents-in-law. “So we have James Harold and Emily Ruth now.”

 

Briana watched with love how Jimmy pressed little kisses to Emily’s forehead and listened with amusement how her mother said they shouldn’t have called the baby Ruth, since it was a very old-fashioned name.

 

“Well, I wasn’t calling my daughter Winifred,” Roger joked. He loved his mother, but between "Ruth" and "Winifred", his mother's name was definitely old-fashioned. “Emily Ruth May-Taylor sounds better, doesn’t it, Bri?”

 

“Yes.” Brianna agreed.

 

Freddie and Queen had been in Brianna’s thoughts ever since that day in which the singer humiliated them and told them he didn’t need them any more. From that day on, Brianna mourned the loss of her family. Every single day since then, Brianna cried a little and wished it had all been a dream, probably one of Freddie’s terrible jokes.

 

But the day Emily Ruth was born, and Brianna was holding her daughter, feeling Jimmy clinging to her, Roger’s lips on hers, Freddie vanished from her thoughts and would never be back until some years later, when her kids had already forgotten their parents were musicians and that had once played in a band – probably the biggest rock band in the world.

 

The day Roger and Brianna welcomed their second child, Queen died for them. Freddie was right about one thing only: he didn’t need them.

 

Now Roger and Brianna didn’t need Freddie – nor wanted him in their lives ever again. So the day Brianna and Emily were back home, the guitarist found a song she had been writing while reading her old books. It’d come to her while thinking about Freddie.

 

After safely placing her daughter in her cot, Brianna read the little crumpled piece of paper.

 

_ You know I love you but you drive me crazy  _

_ 'Cause you're saying all the things I want to say to you _

_ (You say) Everything I do is driven by you  _

_ Everything we do, oh yeah, everything we do  _

_ Everything we do, everything we do  _

_ Everything we do is driven by you _

 

Brianna had never explained the meaning behind her songs. Some of them had a message. Something people could take and interpret as they wanted to. This time, it’d been intended to be a song for Roger – but only herself knew this time it was a song for Freddie too.

 

Using Roger’s lighter, Brianna set the piece of paper on fire. She knew she was never again seeing Freddie. There was no point in thinking about a song she had written for one of the most important friends in her life.

 

So that day she left Freddie and Queen behind forever.

 

But it’ll be their children, James and Emily, who one day will come upon a box containing old records featuring their parents’ faces and the name  _ Queen _ . They will be the ones who will watch Brianna and Roger to face a ghost from the past asking for forgiveness.

 

But for now, they were a little family of four.

 

 

_To be continued._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will be a sequel up in a couple of days, watch out! It won't be as long as this one (ten chapters I think) and it will cover the period between the birth of Brianna and Roger's second child up to Live Aid. 
> 
> See you soon!

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and suggestions are always welcome!


End file.
